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THE 


AMERICAN  PULPIT 


SILETCHES, 


BIOGRAPHICAL  AND  DESCRIPTIVE, 


LIVING  AMERICAN  PREACHERS, 


THE  EELIGIOUS  MOVEMENTS  AND  DISTINCTIVE  IDEAS 
WHICH  THEY  EEPEESENT. 


BY    HENRY    FOWLER, 

PROFESSOR  OF  POLITICAI-  ECONOJnr   IN   THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  ROCHESTER. 


itl]  Wjxtxuh  011  ^htl 


NEW  YORK: 
J.  M.  FAIRCHILD  &  CO.,  109  NASSAU-STREET. 

BOSTON:  — CEOSBY,  NICHOLS  &  CO. 

LONDON  :— SAMPSON  LOW,  SON  &  CO. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S56, 

By  HENEY  FOWLEE, 

In  the  Gerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Sontbem 
District  of  New  York. 


E.  c.  valenttst:,  jon>-  a.  gray, 

8TEBE0TYPER  AND  ELECTR0TTPI3T,  PRINTER, 

17  Dntch-st.,  cor.  Fullon,  N.  Y.  16  &  18  Jacob-ilreet,  K.  Y. 


I   DEDICATE   THIS  BOOK 


TO 


%\G$t  Iri^nirs 


HOSE    GENEROUS    CONVERSATIONS    WERE 


THE    SUMMER    RAIN    TO    ITS    ROOTS 


THEIR   GEXIAL   INTEEEST 


THE  SUNSHINE  TO  ITS  LEAVES. 


He  who  begins  by  loving  Christianity  better  than  truth,  v/ill 
proceed  by  Icnng  his  own  sect  or  church  better  than  Christianity, 
and  end  in  loving  himself  better  than  alL — Coleridge. 


PREFACE. 


Carlyle,  in  his  Life  of  John  Sterling,  says,  "I  have 
remarked  that  a  true  delineation  of  the  smallest  man,  and 
his  scene  of  pilgrimage  through  life,  is  capable  of  interesting 
the  greatest  man ;  that  all  men  are,  to  an  unspeakable  de- 
gTee,  brothers— each  man's  life  a  strange  semblance  of  every 
man's,  and  that  human  portraits,  faithfully  drawn,  are  of  all 
things  the  welcomest  on  human  walls." 

A  kindred  feeling  was  the  first  impulse  to  these  sketches. 
A  second,  more  serious,  was  a  desire  to  portray,  through 
living  examples,  the  characteristics  of  the  American  Pulpit, 
and  some  of  the  distinctive  features  of  American  churches. 
This  has  determined  the  selection.  Eepresentative  men, 
who  are  mostly  prominent  men,  have  been  chosen,  repre- 
senting not  only  denominations,  but  religious  movements 
and  practical  ideas,  principles  and  facts. 

There  has  also  been  a  purpose  in  these  biographies — more 
than  to  gratify  curiosity  or  exalt  individuals — born  out  of 
a  hope  to  promote  Christian  Union  by  grouping  diverse 
Christian  views.  If  we  could  all  "see  eye  to  eye,"  we 
should  less  contend  "hand  to  hand." 

Several  sketches  are  reluctantly  omitted,  from  the  matter- 
of-fact  necessity  which  the  limits  of  one  volume  impose. 


6  PREFACE. 

Several  eloquent  preachers  are  not  mentioned,  because 
preaching  is  with,  them  occasional  and  secondary. 

The  author  must  ask  consideration  for  the  peculiar  deli- 
cacy of  his  task,  as  a  discussion  of  living  men  and  'presmi 
religious  movements.  He  has  striven  to  be  controlled  by 
principles  of  good  taste  and  of  a  universal  Christian  senti- 
ment, without  sacrificing  the  interest  of  minute  personal 
narrative  or  a  journalistic  style. 

With  the  resolve  to  avoid  protruding  his  own  denomi- 
national preferences,  he  has  sought  to  identify  himself,  for 
the  time  being,  with  each  movement  described  and  each 
person  portrayed,  esteeming  the  expression  of  his  private 
views  as  of  no  account  in  comparison  with  a  fair  statement 
of  the  views  of  others. 

Effort  has  also  been  made  to  avoid  eulogy,  which  lay  in 
the  path  of  a  naturally  keen  enjoyment  of  pulpit  oratory, 
increased  by  indulgence. 

Those  familiar  with  the  periodical  literature  of  the  last 
eight  years  may  recognize,  in  portions  of  some  of  the 
sketches,  old  acquaintances.  As  in  volumes  of  poetry,  a 
few  of  "  the  earlier  pieces  "  are  included. 

In  conclusion,  the  author  feels  that  he  will  be  warranted 

in  uniting  the  thanks  of  his  readers,  with  his  own,  to  those 

who  have  kindly  contributed  the  sketches  of  Dr.  Storrs 

and  of  Dr.  Hawks,  and  parts  of  the  sketches  of  Dr.  Cheever 

and  of  Dr.  Williams. 

H.  F. 

University  of  Kochesteb,  N.   Y.,  April,  1856. 


CONTENTS. 


EDWARD  NOKRIS  KIRK,  D.D.  (with  portrait),      .      11-48 

Early  Life,  11 — Conversion,  13 — ^Becomes  a  Preacher,  15 — ^First  extem- 
pore Sermon,  17— life  at  Albany,  19-22— Farewell  Sermon,  23-32— 
Free  Church  movement,  33-39 — Kev.  Charles  G.  Finney,  37 — "Aunt 
Dinah,"  40 — Kevivalsof  1840,  42 — Kesidence  at  Boston,  44 — Criticism, 
45 — Personal  description,  47 . 

CHESTER  DEWEY,  D.D.,LL.D.,       ....        49-70 

The  True  Teacher,  50— Childhood,  52— College  life,  53— Stockbridge,  55 
— Williams  College,  56 — Anecdote  of ' '  Kirwan,"  58 — Revivals  at ' '  Wil- 
liams," 59 — Pittsfield  Gymnasium,  60 — ^University  of  Kochester,  61 — 
Writings,  62 — Characteristics,  64 — ^Beauty  of  manhood,  65 — Dr.  Baird 
on  American  Education,  67-70. 

ROBERT  BAIRD,  D.D.  (with  portrait),    .        .         .         71-88 
Birth,  72— His  mother,  73— College  life,  75— Influence  at  "Princeton," 
78— First  tour  in  Europe,  81 — Various  labors,  83 — Characteristics — 
Lectures,  85 — Personal  description,  87 — ^His  Works,  88. 

JOHN  P.  DURBIN,  D.D.,  .....         89-99 

Commences  Preaching,  90 — ^Book-education,  91 — First  visit  to  New  York, 
93 — As  Chaplain  of  the  U.  S.  Senate,  94 — Oratory,  95 — ^Appearance  and 
style,  97-99. 

THE  PIONEER  PREACHER,        ....         100-122 

Moravian  Missions,  101— Massacre  of  Moravian  Indians,  103 — Union  of  the 
Methodists  and  Presbyterians,  105 — ^The  "  Cumberland  Eevival,"  106 — 
The  "Jerks,"  107 — William  Burke,  108 — ^Remarkable  excitement,  109 
— ^The  Preacher's  recompense.  111 — The  Preacher's  life,  113 — Style 
of  preaching,  114 — Bishop  Asbury,  115 — James  Craven,  116 — Father 


8  CONTENTS. 

Haxlet,  117 — Pbtee  CAETWKiGnT,  118 — ^The  Ferryman  baptized,  119 
— Wilson  Pitnek,  120 — Mr.  Milburn's  description  of  the  Pioneer 
Preacher,  121. 

REV.  WILLIAM  HENRY  MILBURN  (with  portrait),  123-140 

His  blindness,  123 — His  memory,  125 — His  studies,  126— The  Preacher's 
discipline,  127 — The  Preacher's  duties,  129 — ^The  Preacher's  educa- 
tion, 131 — Senate  Chaplaincy,  182 — Labors  at  the  South,  134 — ^Lec- 
tures, 135 — Education  in  the  Methodist  Church,  136 — Liberty  of  the 
Pulpit,  13&-140. 

REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER  (with  portrait),       141-212 

Plymouth  Church,  141— Views  cf  Man,  143 — Views  of  Slavery,  145 — 
Views  of  Theology,  146 — Views  of  the  Deity,  147 — Views  of  Christ, 
149-153 — Views  of  Church  membership,  154 — Views  of  Revelation  and 
Inspiration,  155-162 — Views  of  Prayer,  163 — His  solution  of  the  Prob- 
lem of  Evil,  164-166— His  philosophy,  167-169— His  pulpit  humor, 
171-173— Sharp's  rifles,  174— Preaching  to  the  times,  177-180— What 
is  truth?  181 — Se^.ectioxs,  182-196 — His  mission,  197 — His  lectures, 
199— Genealogy,  201— Biography,  203-205— Characteristics,  206— Ex- 
tempore prayer,  208-212. 

WILLIAM  R.  WILLIAMS,  D.D.,   ....        213-246 

Bunyan,  Fuller,  Hall,  Foster,  Wayland,  and  Williams,  21^218 — Uniform 
command  of  his  powers,  219 — Characteristics  as  a  writer,  220 — Spiritu- 
ality and  devotion,  220 — Erudition,  221 — Affluence  of  illustration,  222 
—Originality,  223— Beauties,  225— Criticisms,  226-229—"  Religious 
Progress,"  230-237— Biography,  238— Publications,  239— Delivery,  241 
—  Interest  in  the  young,  242  —  Extempore,  243 — Rev.  John  Wil- 
liams, 245. 

CHARLES  G.  SOMMERS,  D.D.  (with  portrait),      .       247-266 

Nassau-street  Church,  247— Early  life,  249— Bombardment  of  Copen- 
hagen, 250 — Mercantile  life,  253 — Comes  to  America,  254 — Engage- 
ment with  John  Jacob  Astor,  255 — Determination  to  be  a  Minister, 
256 — Commences  preaching,  259 — Various  departments  of  labor,  261— 
The  American  Tract  Society,  262 — ^The  Slavery  question,  264 — Sum- 
mary of  his  work,  265. 

ORVILLE  DEWEY,  D.D.  (with  portrait),     .        .         267-288 

The  religious  influence  of  Williams  College,  267 — An  anecdote,  268 — 
College  experiences,  269 — Early  religious  views,  269 — Change  of  Views, 


CONTENTS.  9 

271— Estrangement  from  Friends,  272— Dr.  Channing,  273— At  New 
Bedford,  274— "The  Old  World  and  the  New,"  275— A  word  to  Wo- 
men, 276— "The  Church  of  the  Messiah,"  277— Lectures,  278— "Lib- 
erty," 279— A  charge  repelled,  280— His  character,  281— His  style, 
282— His  discourses,  283— His  oratory,  286. 

FREDERICK  D.  HUNTINGTON,  D.D.,         .        .         289-315 
At  Amherst  College,  289— His  pulpit  manner,  290— Letter  of  Kev.  C.  L. 
Brace,  291— Church  of  the  Future,  294— His  %'iews  of  union,  296— 
Union  of  Congregationalists,  297— His  views  of  the  Atonement,  303. 

LEONARD  BACON,  D.D., 316-330 

Biography,  316 — Ordination  at  New  Haven,  318 — Dedication  Sermon, 
319— His  people,  320 — "Historical  discourses,"  321 — ^His  literary  la- 
bors, 322— His  Eeview  articles,  323— His  sincerity,  325— A  type  of 
New  England,  329. 

REV.  THEODORE  L.  CUYLER  (with  portrait),     .     331-350 

Eeformers  and  Preachers,  331— Characteristics  of  his  preaching,  333— 
Biography,  334— Call  to  "Market-street  Church,"  336— " Somebody's 
Son,"  337—"  Faith  and  Works"  Sermon,  338— A  New  Year  Discourse, 
340_Selections,  341— As  a  Platform  speaker,  342— Church  accessions, 
343— Intercourse  with  his  People,  344— Church  hospitality,  344— City 
Mission  Sermon,  345— His  "  Six  Thoughts  on  Christian  Eeform,"  346. 

SAMUEL  H.  COX,  D.D.,  LL.D.  (with  portrait),  .  351-380 
His  parents,  351— Eeligious  experience,  352— Spring-street  Church,  New 
York,  358— First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Brooklyn,  361—"  Semi-lunai- 
fardels"  letter,  362— His  ideas  of  Faith  and  Preaching,  364— "Inter- 
view" with  two  Mormon  Apostles,  366— Trials  in  his  life,  367— Anti- 
slavery  Eiots  of  1833-i,  368— Characteristics,  377— His  public  life,  379. 

FRANCIS  L.  HAWKS,  D.D.,  LL.D.,      .        .        .         381-388 
Biography,  381— Editorial  labors,  383— Publications,  384— As  preacher, 
386. 

GEORGE  W.  BETHUNE,  D.D.,     ....         389-400 

His  pulpit  manner,  391— Conservative  \'iews,  392 — Characteristics,  393— 
His  preaching,  394— Discourse  on  the  "  Eloquence  of  the  Pulpit,"  395 
— Specimens  of  his  poetry,  398. 


10  CONTENTS. 

RICHARD  S.  STORRS,  Jr.,  D.D.,         .        .         .        401-420 

His  ancestry,  401 — History  of  the  "  Churcli  of  the  Pilgrims,"  403 — Per- 
sonal description,  40G — His  discourses,  407 — Extracts,  408 — Congrega- 
tionalism, 409 — Supremacy  of  Christianity,  410 — Views  of  the  Fugitive 
Sla^t^  Law,  413 — A  new  version  of  the  Bible,  414 — Dr.  Storrs  and  Mr. 
Beecher  in  contrast,  416 — A  Congregational  liturgy,  417 — Congrega- 
tional worship,  419. 

STEPHEN  H.  TYNG,  D.D.  (with  portrait),         .         421-463 

Extempore  preaching,  421 — ^His  Sabbath-schools,  424 — ^Features  of  his 
Sabbath-school  system,  427 — Sermon  to  children,  427 — Annual  report. 
May,  1855,  432— St.  George's  Church,  433— Biography,  437— His 
writings,  440 — Criticism,  440 — His  earnestness,  441 — His  style,  442 — 
His  manner,  443 — "Speaking  against  time,"  444 — His  strength  and 
independence,  445 — Evangelical  Catholicity,  446 — Memorial  of  Dr. 
Muhlenberg  and  others,  448 — Reply  of  Rev.  Edward  A.  Washburn, 
452 — "Catholic  union,"  461 — Advocates  and  opposers,  463. 

JAMES  W.  ALEXANDER,  D.D.,  ....        464-476 

Characteristics,  465 — Literary  acquirements,  467 — Manner  of  life,  468 — 
Dr.  Alexander  and  Mr.  Beecher  in  contrast,  469 — His  style,  471 — Per- 
sonal manner,  472 — Biography,  473— His  writings,  473 — Dr.  Archibald 
Alexander,  474 — Mr.  Kirk's  friendship,  476. 

GEORGE  B.  CHEEVER,  D.D.,       ....        477-492 

His  birth  and  ancestors,  477 — "Deacon  Giles's  Distillery,"  478 — Capital 
punishment,  480 — His  sermons,  481 — Rev.  Joseph  P.  Thompson,  483 — 
As  a  writer,  485 — "  Lectures  on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  486 — "Voices 
of  Nature,"  488 — "  Voices  of  Nature"  and  "Star  Papers,"  489 — List 
of  his  Works,  492. 

REV.  ALBERT  BARNES  (with  portrait),     .        .        493-515 

Some  characteristics,  494 — Biography,  495 — Arraignment  for  heresy,  497 
— The  leading  charges,  498 — His  defence,  499 — His  love  of  truth,  505 
— "Views  of  Slavery,"  506 — True  heroism,  508 — His  character,  509 — 
Description  by  Rev.  Dr.  Brainard,  510 — His  works,  513 — A  finished 
character,  515. 


EDWARD  NORRIS  KIRK, 

THE  EVANGELIST  PREACHER. 


' '  How  beautiful  upon  the  mountains  are  the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth 
good  tidings,  that  publisheth  peace  ;  that  bringeth  good  tidings  of  good, 
that  publisheth  salvation  ;  that  saith  unto  Zion,  Thy  Grod  reigneth." 


EARLY  LIFE. 


Edward  N.  Kirk  was  bom  on  the  fourteenth  day  of  August, 
1802,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  was  baptized  by  his  pastor,  the 
Rev.  Dr.  John  Mason.  His  father,  a  native  of  Kirkcudbrightshire, 
in  Scotland,  was  a  man  of  humble  origin,  possessing  the  sterhng 
quahties  which  have  so  distinguished  his  countrymen.  Upright  and 
faithful  in  all  his  dealings  with  men,  devoutly  consecrated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  he  led  a  quiet  life,  doing  a  small  and  safe  business  as  a 
grocer,  winning  the  respect  of  a  large  circle  of  friends ;  and,  when 
the  appointed  time  came,  meeting  death,  under  the  roof  of  his  son, 
at  Albany,  with  the  victorious  assurance  of  eternal  life. 

His  family  consisted  of  this  one  son  and  three  sisters.  Edward 
was  reared  amidst  the  temptations  of  a  great  city,  and  his  animal 
spirits,  quickness  of  mind,  ready  ways,  and  love  of  excitement,  allured 
him  from  the  restraints  of  school  and  the  subduing  quietness  of  home. 
He  was  a  bold,  passionate,  heedless  boy,  enamored  of  pleasure,  re- 
gardless of  early  privileges,  and  wasteful  of  Hfe's  seed-time.  So  he 
grew  up,  and  with  much  the  same  character  he  attended  school  at 
Princeton  and  entered  the  college  at  that  place.  In  the  year  1817 
he  joined  the  sophomore  class,  when  he  was  fifteen,  and  managed  to 
graduate  when  the  three  appointed  years  were  completed.  He  was 
idle,  and  neglectful  of  books,  from  beginning  to  end.     He  did  not 


12  EDWARD    NOKKIS    KIKK. 

even  establish  any  reputation  as  a  debater  or  declaimer,  owing  to  the 
rapidity  and  inarticulateness  of  his  utterance.  His  physical  develop- 
ment was  of  the  best;  and  he  was  mostly  distinguished  as  an  athlete, 
somewhat  of  a  boxer,  a  fine  skater,  a  bold,  chivalrous  fellow — the 
defender  of  the  weak,  the  champion  of  his  mates — one  who  never 
flinched  or  failed,  who  "  continued  unto  the  end ;"  who  would  sac- 
rifice all  he  had,  even  recklessly,  in  behalf  of  the  cause  he  had  es- 
poused, or  of  the  friends  he  loved. 

On  leaving  college  he  entered  the  law  office  of  Messrs.  Radchfie  & 
Mason,  in  New  York,  where  he  remained  for  eighteen  months,  be- 
coming, however,  more  famihar  with  the  billiard-cue  than  with 
Blackstone.  In  fact,  he  was  painfully  dissipated,  so  that  almost  the 
only  sign  which  he  manifested  of  attention  to  mental  culture,  or  pro- 
fessional promise,  was  his  awakened  interest  in  public  speaking.  He 
was  a  prominent  member  of  "  The  Forum,"  a  public  debating-club, 
which  used  to  hold  its  discussions  in  the  large  halls  of  the  City  Ho- 
tel and  Washington  Hall.  In  these  debates  such  men  figured  as 
Sand,  and  Dey,  and  William  H.  Seward — students  of  law  at  that 
time.  In  debate  he  began  to  recognize  his  power,  and  his  friends  to 
gather  hope  for  the  future. 

Nineteen  years  of  his  life  had  gone  by.  The  forming-period  of 
character  is  passed,  and  the  seed-time  is  at  an  end.  The  mind  is  as 
yet  undiscipHned,  the  passions  unsubdued,  plans  for  life  unsettled, 
life's  great  purpose  disregarded.  Early  indulgences  have  become  es- 
tablished habits,  factitious  excitement  has  grown  to  a  necessity,  and 
the  garment  of  sin  which  was  slipped  on  so  smoothly,  and  is  worn 
so  easily,  will  be  found,  when  the  effort  comes  to  put  it  off",  to  have 
hardened  into  a  garment  of  welded  iron.  Such  is  the  condition,  up 
to  a  certain  day,  of  one  created  in  God's  image,  an  heir  of  immor- 
tality, a  child  of  prayer,  a  recipient  of  Heaven's  bounties,  endowed 
with  powers  that  might  move  a  nation,  and  afiect  the  immoilal  des- 
tinies of  thousands.  And  up  to  this  certain  day  he  has  been  de- 
facing this  image,  and  trifling  with  this  immortality,  and  nullifying 
these  prayers,  and  treading  on  these  blessings,  and  wasting  these 
gifts.  And  during  all  the  time  before  this  certain  day,  the  warnings 
of  a  father,  the  counsels  of  teachers,  the  solicitations  of  friends,  the 


CONVERSION.  13 

admonitions  of  ministers,  have  all  been  unavailing,  to  waken  in  the 
soul  one  abiding  desire  for  a  higher  and  better  life,  or  one  fruit-bear- 
ing resolution  to  enter  the  path  which  revelation  makes  manifest, 
and  reason  recommends  as  the  path  of  right  and  the  way  to  immor- 
tality. But  only  four  days  elapse,  and  lo !  all  is  changed !  He  does 
not  seem  like  the  same  person  he  was  four  days  before.  He  can 
hardly  be  said,  in  truth,  to  be  the  same  person,  so  gi'eat  is  the 
change.  The  habits,  hardening  for  a  dozen  years,  are  cast  off — the 
rivets  of  the  iron  garment  are  rent  asunder — the  waste-gate  of  priv- 
ileges is  shut  down.  Irresolution  of  purpose  and  lack  of  object  are 
exchanged  for  firm  decision  and  for  an  established  course.  Old 
things  have  all  passed  away,  behold !  all  things  have  become  new  I 
Xew  hopes  are  budding  forth,  new  purposes  are  formed,  new  habits 
assumed,  new  thoughts  awakened,  new  joys  experienced,  a  new  life 
is  commenced;  and  the  hopes,  and  purposes,  and  habits,  and 
thoughts,  and  joys,  which  began  their  life  on  that  day  have  been 
strengthening,  and  enlarging,  and  developing  ever  since.  They  are 
the  hopes  of  heaven,  the  purposes  of  benevolence,  the  habits  of  right- 
doing,  the  thoughts  of  God,  the  joys  of  immortality.  This  is  a  won- 
derful fact ;  we  stale  it  simply  as  a  fact,  worthy  of  attention  from 
those  who  are  studying  the  human  mind,  striving  to  read  the  secrets 
of  the  human  soul,  and  to  determine  the  principles  of  human  action* 
Facts  like  this  are  not  rare ;  yet  they  are  not  so  frequent  as  to  be  un- 
noticeable,  for  how  often  the  reckless  youth  of  twenty  becomes  the 
ruined  man  of  thirty,  or  a  cumberer  of  the  earth  at  forty.  And  when 
such  a  youth,  on  the  other  hand,  is  changed  into  an  honor  to  man- 
kind, and  a  blessing  to  the  world,  dispensing  good  deeds,  and  preach- 
ing the  truth  with  an  eloquence  of  life  not  inferior  to  the  eloquence 
of  his  words,  is  it  not  a  fact  whose  cause  is  worthy  of  investigation, 
and  its  results,  of  rejoicing  ?  How  this  change  was  brought  about, 
what  means  were  employed  for  its  production,  what  was  the  inner 
experience,  we  do  not  know.  We  only  know  that  Mr.  Kirk  was  led 
to  reflection  by  a  long  series  of  influences  wonderfully  directed  by 
Providence,  that  his  thoughts  became  most  serious,  so  serious  that 
he  left  law  study  and  billiard-balls,  shut  himself  in  his  room,  re- 
mained there  during  four  days,  and  came  forth — a  Christian.     Ah  ! 


14  EDWAKD    NOKKIS    KIKK. 

what  struggles,  what  conflicts,  what  agonies  were  endured  in  the 
soHtude  of  these  four  days !  We  know  not  the  history  of  that  era. 
It  is  all  hidden  to  the  world.  Verily,  the  Hfe  of  man  is  not  known 
— the  great  life  within — the  real  soul-hfe !  We  can  catch  a  glimpse 
at  times — we  can  infer  something  from  what  is  seen  externally,  and 
from  our  own  experience ;  yet  we  know  but  little  at  the  best.  The 
life  of  hopes,  and  joys,  and  aspirations,  and  fears,  and  struggles,  and 
defeats,  and  victories,  ever  beating,  throbbing  underneath,  is  all  sealed 
to  our  sight  in  the  secret  chambers  of  the  soul. 

' '  Man  to  man  was  never  known, 
Heart  with  heart  did  never  meet, 
We  are  columns  left  alone 
Of  a  temple  once  complete. ' ' 

In  this  connection  a  special  interest  will  attach  to  a  statement 
once  made  at  a  select  meeting  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Waterbury,  of  Bos- 
ton. Designing  to  illustrate  God's  faithfulness  to  those  who  trust 
him,  and  the  remarkable  methods  of  his  providence,  he  related  the 
following  facts : 

"  Many  years  ago,  a  Mr.  Scudder  came  to  my  father's  house,  in 
l^eAv  York,  wishing  to  reside  in  the  family,  while  prosecuting  his 
medical  studies.  Kot  a  member  of  the  family  then  knew  any  thing 
of  practical  religion.  But  Mr.  Scudder  added  to  the  attractiveness 
of  a  Chiistian  hfe  the  persuasions  of  earnest  zeal  that  we  would  make 
our  peace  with  God.  The  result  of  his  patient  efforts  was  the  entire 
change  of  the  character  of  our  household.  Harriet,  my  sister,  be- 
came a  Christian,  and  afterwards  was  married  to  Mr.  Scudder,  and 
has  most  faithfully  rewarded  his  fidelity  to  her  by  the  devotion  of 
her  life  to  him  and  to  his  w^ork  as  a  missionary. 

"After  a  long  residence  in  India,  Dr.  Scudder  sent  his  sons  to 
America  to  be  educated.  Henry  was  a  wild  and  wicked  boy,  and 
gave  his  friends  great  disquietude.  But  his  father  and  mother  never 
lost  their  confidence  in  God.  Their  feiTent  prayers  for  him  were  in- 
cessant. Now  mark  how  God  answers  prayers,  and  how  he  rewards, 
after  long  years  and  heavy  trials,  the  faithful  labors  of  his  servants. 
I  had  been  brought  to  know  and  love  the  Saviour  throuorh  the  iuflu- 


BECOMES    A   PREACIIEK.  15 

ence  of  Mr.  Scudder,  when  living  in  my  father's  family.  In  the 
spnng  of  1822,  I  went  to  New  York  to  spend  a  college  vacation. 
^Miile  there,  I  addressed  an  audience  of  young  men.  At  the  close 
of  the  meeting,  one  of  them  followed  me  up  Greenwich-street,  and  at 
length  accosted  me.  His  question  was  direct :  "  What  must  I  do  to 
be  saved  ?"  I  gave  him  Paul's  answer  to  the  same  question,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  he  fulfilled  it  happily  in  his  own  experience,  and 
in  a  few  years  after  entered  the  ministry. 

"In  1840,  this  young  man,  now  grown  to  be  that  eloquent  cham- 
pion of  the  truth,  the  Rev.  E.  N.  Kirk,  was  preaching  in  Dr.  Skin- 
ner's church  in  New  York,  and  a  son  of  Dr.  Skinner  became  a  Chris- 
tian through  his  influence.  He  was  an  intimate  friend  of  young 
Scudder,  and  urged  him  to  come  and  hear  the  preacher  who  had  so 
wrought  upon  his  own  heart.  Scudder  went,  and  by  the  sermon  he 
then  heard  was  brought  to  receive  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  and 
is  now  laboring  vdtb.  his  father,  a  missionary  in  India." 

Mr.  Kirk  immediately  resolved  to  become  a  preacher  of  the  blessed 
truth  which  had  proved  his  salvation.  With  this  purpose  he  re- 
paired to  Princeton  to  prosecute  the  preparatory  studies,  and  joined 
the  theological  seminary  of  that  place  in  the  autumn  of  1822. 

Now  he  begins  a  life  of  hard  study.  He  was  striving  to  repair 
the  waste  of  school  and  college  days.  He  succeeded  to  some  extent ; 
but  he  has  always  suffered  from  the  lack  of  those  very  things  which 
early  culture  and  industry  produce.  But  though  he  could  not 
wholly  retrieve  past  time,  one  thing  he  could  do,  and  did :  he  trans- 
formed the  very  evils  of  the  Past  into  helps  for  the  Future.  His 
familiarity  with  the  arts  of  the  elocutionist  and  of  the  actor,  as  seen 
on  the  boards,  he  turned  to  practical  account  in  his  training  for  the 
platform  and  the  pulpit. 

At  this  time  a  galaxy  of  incipient  pulpit  orators  were  pursuing 
their  preparatory  course.  Associated  in  a  debating  club  with  Mr. 
Kirk,  were  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander;  Dr.  Bethune ;  President  Young, 
of  Kentucky ;  the  late  Dr.  J.  S.  Christmass,  of  New  York,  one  of  the 
most  accomplished  of  men ;  the  late  Professor  Dod,  of  Princeton ; 
Dr.  Butler,  of  Port  Gibson,  on  the  Mississippi ;  and  John  A.  McClung, 
of  Augusta,  Georgia,  remarkable  for  commencing  life  as  a  preacher, 


16  EDWAIiD    NOERIS    KIRK. 

then  leaving  theology  for  law,  during  twenty  years  practice  estab- 
lishing an  env-iable  reputation  at  the  bar,  and  now  returning  to  the 
ministry. 

Mr.  Kirk  continued  his  connection  with  the  seminary  for  four 
years.  During  most  of  these  years  he  preached  more  or  less,  at  one 
time  having  charge  of  a  congregation  of  colored  people.  He  had  a 
Chiistian  love  and  zeal  which  could  not  fail  to  find  an  expression  in 
words ;  and  in  the  way  of  doing  good  to  others,  he  was  benefiting 
himself  by  practice  in  the  use  of  those  weapons  which  he  was  to 
wield  as  a  "  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ."  "Whether  it  is  the  true 
course  for  a  person  in  his  preparatory  training  to  devote  any  con- 
siderable portion  of  his  time  to  active  service,  is  a  question.  From 
some  remarks  which  Mr.  Kirk  once  made  on  a  public  occasion,  we 
inferred  that  in  his  opinion  this  was  the  right  way  for  a  theological 
student  to  pursue  ;  and  he  spoke  from  his  own  experience.  Let  a 
student  learn  to  apply  the  truth,  as  well  as  know  the  truth  itself; 
let  him  be  trained  by  practice,  as  well  as  by  instruction,  and  learn 
by  experience  as  well  as  by  books — it  is  by  actual  contact  with  hu- 
manity that  we  become  skilled  in  getting  at  the  heart  of  man,  it  is 
by  preaching  that  we  learn  how  to  preach — such  we  apprehend 
would  be  the  fair  expression  of  his  sentiments.  Yet  it  may  be  said, 
on  the  other  side,  "wdth  a  good  degree  of  plausibility,  that  it  is  the 
business  of  a  student  at  the  seminary  to  study,  not  to  preach,  to 
become  familiar  himself  with  the  principles  of  his  profession,  not 
to  attempt  to  instruct  others;  that  there  is  greater  danger  that 
he  will  neglect  study  than  deeds  of  benevolence ;  that  it  is  harder 
to  think  than  to  talk,  harder  to  do  one's  self  good  than  to  do  others 
good. 

We  would  state  for  the  encouragement  of  young  writers,  that  Mr. 
Kirk,  who,  at  the  present  time,  is  equalled  by  few  in  the  facility  with 
which  he  prepares  sermons,  and  in  the  finish  of  their  preparation, 
was  taxed  to  the  utmost  in  preparing,  during  the  whole  of  his  fourth 
year  at  the  seminary,  the  four  sermons  which  were  required  of  him. 
Let  no  young  writer  be  discouraged  because  he  cannot  write  rapidly, 
provided  he  only  writes  something  that  has  substance.  If  he  has 
genuine  thought,  he  has  the  gold.     It  is  as  yet  imbedded  in  the  re 


FIEST   EXTEl^iPOEE   SERMON.  17 

cesses  of  liis  mind ;  lie  must  dig  it  out  and  get  it  coined,  and  tlien 
there  will  be  no  great  diflSculty  in  bringing  it  into  circulation. 

Before  the  close  of  his  fourth  year,  Mr.  Kirk  was  requested  by  the 
American  Board  of  Commissioners  for  Foreign  Missions  to  become 
their  agent,  in  advocating  the  claims  of  the  society,  and  collecting 
funds.  He  accepted  the  proposal,  and  labored  in  behalf  of  the 
society  for  eighteen  months,  traversing  New  Jersey  and  Western 
New  York,  and  making  an  excursion  to  South  Carolina  by  water, 
preaching  on  his  return  through  North  Carolina,  Virginia,  Maryland, 
and  Pennsylvania,  in  company  with  the  Kev.  Jonas  King,  now  a  dis- 
tinguished missionary  in  Greece.  His  opening  experience  in  fulfil- 
ling the  duties  of  this  agency  may  be  interesting  to  all,  and  certainly 
advantageous  to  those  who  may  have  a  similar  duty  to  perform.  It 
seems  that  Mr.  Kirk,  after  accepting  the  appointment,  took  lodgings 
at  Hoboken,  and  there  prepared  a  discourse  which  he  purposed  to 
dehver  from  place  to  place,  according  to  the  accustomed  method  of 
agents.  This  discourse  appeared  to  its  author  able,  finished,  and 
eloquent,  but  unfortunately  it  produced  little  practical  results.  Con- 
gregations listened  to  it  attentively,  and  admired  it  much,  but  seemed 
to  forget  to  contribute  in  proportion  to  their  attention  and  admira- 
tion. Thus  the  chief  end  of  the  discourse  was  not  attained.  At  that 
time  serious  objections  to  the  cause  of  missions  existed  in  the  minds 
of  many  Christians.  They  were  skeptical  about  the  feasibility  of  the 
undertaking ;  they  doubted  whether  the  affairs  of  the  society  were 
properiy  managed ;  they  were  ignorant  of  its  good  results.  Espe- 
cially in  New  Jersey,  the  church  was  in  a  state  of  decided  hostility 
or  profound  apathy. 

In  social  intercoiu-se  with  the  people,  Mr.  Kirk  met  objections  on 
every  side,  and  in  a  great  variety  of  forms.  Some  thought  that  the 
efforts  of  the  Church  should  be  confined  to  the  evangelization  of  our 
own  country ;  others,  that  the  money  was  thrown  away  on  the  de- 
graded heathen ;  others,  that  the  missionaries  should  go  forth,  like 
Paul,  unmarried,  and  so  on.  The  objections  were  endless ;  the  name 
of  the  objectors,  legion.  A  few  ministers  refused  to  furnish  theii' 
pulpits  for  the  advocacy  of  the  cause ;  and  others  would  only  con- 
sent that  it  be  occupied  on  a  week-day.     Yet  the  apathy  was  more 

2 


18  '  EDWARD   NOKRIS   KIRK. 

extensive  than  the  hostihty,  and  more  difficult  to  combat  and  de- 
stroy. Mr.  Kirk  "was  obliged  to  meet  these  objections  at  every  turn, 
and  strove  to  answer  them  in  private ;  but  he  still  held  on  to  his 
elaborate  sermon  before  the  public.  All  the  time,  however,  he  was 
gaining  knowledge  of  the  state  of  the  public  mind.  He  was  filling 
his  quiver  with  arrows.  It  chanced  not  long  after  the  commence- 
ment of  his  labors,  that  he  had  made  an  appointment  to  preach  in  a 
certain  town  on  a  week-day,  and,  coming  to  the  church,  found  only 
two  persons  there,  neither  of  whom  was  the  minister.  Giving  up 
the  idea  of  preaching  to  such  a  very  select  audience,  he  repaired  to 
the  minister's  study,  and  after  much  persuasion  prevailed  on  him  to 
grant  the  use  of  the  pulpit  for  the  following  Sabbath. 

As  he  was  entering  the  church,  he  was  met  by  an  intelligent  phy- 
sician of  the  place,  who  poured  forth  a  volley  of  arguments  against 
the  cause  of  foreign  missions,  refusing  all  countenance  to  such  a 
Utopian  scheme.  Mr.  Kirk  asked  his  reverend  brother  if  that  was  a 
fair  sample  of  the  state  of  his  people,  and  was  assured  that  it  was 
even  so.  With  the  consciousness  of  this  not  altogether  pleasant  state 
of  things,  Mr.  Kirk  went  into  the  pulpit.  He  thought  over  the  ob- 
jections— he  thought  of  his  wTitten  sermon — he  knew  that  it  would 
not  dissipate  one  of  them,  and  so  he  resolved  to  lay  it  aside,  and  talk. 
He  rose  without  any  notes  before  him,  and  at  once  threw  himself 
into  the  midst  of  the  whole  herd  of  ca^^llings.  He  knew  many  more 
than  any  of  his  audience  had  ever  thought  of;  and  he  went  through 
with  them,  answering,  defending,  explaining,  and  enlightening.  Thus 
Mr.  Kirk  talked  on  for  nearly  two  hours,  and  when,  at  the  close,  the 
people  were  invited  to  advance  to  the  desk  and  subscribe,  they  came 
in  a  crowd.  That  was  the  last  of  the  elaborated  discourse.  There 
is  no  doubt  that  this  success  inspired  Mr.  Kirk  with  fresh  confidence 
in  himself,  and  gave  an  impulse  to  his  power  for  extempore  speak- 
ing, in  which  he  has  since  so  greatly  excelled. 


LIFE  AT  ALBANY. 

OLD    MEASURES    AND    NEW   MEASURES. 

In  the  spring  of  1828,  Mr.  Kirk  spent  a  little  time  in  travelling 
with  the  Rev.  now  Dr.  James  "W.  Alexander,  who  was  out  of  health. 
With  this  distinguished  divine  he  had  formed  an  intimate  fiiendship 
when  at  school ;  and  they  were  also  classmates  at  college  and  at  the 
seminary,  being  associates  for  some  thirteen  years.  They  were  like 
Da^dd  and  Jonathan  to  each  other.  Probably  the  influence  of  Dr. 
Alexander  was  an  eflScient  means  in  the  conversion  of  Mr.  Kirk,  Dr. 
Alexander  having  become  a  Christian  the  year  previous,  during  a 
season  of  religious  interest  at  Princeton  College. 

In  the  course  of  this  journey  he  stopped  at  Albany,  and  was  re- 
quested to  take  charge  of  the  pulpit  of  Dr.  Chester,  who  was  unable 
to  perform  ministerial  duties  in  consequence  of  ill  health.  There  he 
preached  until  the  autumn,  when  he  was  informed  by  a  committee 
of  the  trustees  that  his  services  were  no  longer  required.  The  term 
for  which  he  had  been  employed  had  ended,  and  the  engagement 
was  not  renewed. 

The  circumstances,  which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  trustees,  rendered 
it  unad\-isable  to  retain  Mr.  Kirk,  and  which  led  to  the  subsequent 
colonization  of  a  portion  of  Dr.  Chester's  congregation,  and  the  for- 
mation of  a  new  church,  demand  a  brief  recital.  We  would  not  call 
up  the  dead-past  of  twenty-seven  years  to  furnish  an  occasion  of  re- 
newed discussion,  and  possibly  of  renewed  diflferences  of  feehng,  but 
we  are  authorized  in  giving  such  an  outline  of  the  circumstances  as 
shall  shield  our  sketch  from  the  charge  of  incompleteness,  and  which 
we  trust  will  commend  itself  to  the  judgment  of  those  who  shared  in 
the  experience. 

It  can  be  said,  we  think,  with  truth,  and  without  prejudice  to  Mr. 
Kjrk,  or  injustice  to  the  personal  friends  of  the  revered  Dr.  Chester, 
that  the  original  reason  for  the  suspension  of  Mr.  Kirk's  ministra- 
tions, was  the  fact  that  he  was  suspected  of  seeking  to  supplant  Dr 


20  EDWARD    NOEEIS   KIEK. 

Chester.  There  is  no  doubt  that  these  suspicions  were  groundless, 
and  we  know  of  no  one  at  present  who,  for  a  moment,  entertains 
them.  But,  under  the  circumstances,  it  is  not  strange,  perhaps, 
that  certain  minds  felt  them  to  be  well  founded.  ^Nlr.  Kirk  was 
a  young  man  of  warm  zeal,  immense  energy,  and  glowing  enthu- 
siasm. He  labored  in  every  department  where  a  minister  could 
labor.  He  preached  boldly,  pungently,  and  pointedly.  He  mani- 
fested an  efficient,  practical  interest  in  Sabbath-schools,  Bible-classes, 
Prayer-meetings,  in  the  cause  of  Education,  and  of  Temperance.  In 
pastoral  intercourse  with  the  people  he  was  untiring.  He  overflowed 
with  the  ardor  which  is  fed  by  deep  convictions,  and  the  sentiments 
of  his  heart  he  uttered  with  impassioned  eloquence.  He  became,  in 
a  short  time,  exceedingly  popular  as  a  preacher.  Crowds  flocked  to 
hear  him.  A  large  circle  of  warm  friends  gathered  about  him.  Ad- 
miration of  his  fervent  oratory  was  upon  every  tongue ;  while  the 
truths  which  he  uttered,  with  such  pointed  directness,  and  such  in- 
spiring enthusiasm,  rankled  in  many  a  guilty  conscience,  or  nestled 
in  many  a  Christian  heart.  There  is  no  doubt  that  opposition  to  Mr. 
Kirk  was  manifested  by  those  who  could  not  endure  the  severe, 
searching  character  of  his  preaching ;  and  it  may  be  that  some,  who 
were  so  zealous  in  behalf  of  their  old  pastor,  were  enemies  of  the 
truth  more  than  they  were  friends  of  Dr.  Chester ;  yet  we  believe 
that  it  was  the  expression  of  those  suspicions,  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  which  led  to  his  removal,  while  we  would  not  be  understood 
to  say  that  the  trustees  themselves,  or  any  one  of  them,  felt  these 
suspicions  to  be  well  founded.  On  the  other  hand.  Dr.  Chester  was 
a  man  of  most  gentle  bearing.  His  style  of  preaching  was  mild, 
persuasive,  and  winning,  never  startling  or  denunciatory.  He  dealt 
little  in  the  "  terrors  of  the  law."  While  the  sincerity  and  talent  of 
both  were  unquestioned,  it  is  not  strange  that  comparisons  should  be 
instituted  between  two  ministers  of  such  opposite  styles  of  preaching 
— that,  in  time,  a  lino  of  division,  more  or  less  distinct,  should  be 
drawn  between  the  admirers  of  the  young  orator  and  of  the  old 
divine — that  the  mere  expression  of  admiration  by  the  former  should 
be  construed  by  the  latter  into  implied  criticism  of  Dr.  Chester,  and 
that  in  time  they  should  suspect  that  these  expressions  of  admiration 


NEW   MEASTJEES.  21 

covered  up  an  undue  desire,  and  were  part  of  a  wrong  effort,  for  the 
supplanting  of  the  long-tried  pastor. 

Moreover,  another  element  was  introduced  in  aid  of  the  disunion, 
besides  the  suspicions  of  Dr.  Chester's  friends  and  the  opposition  to 
Mr.  Kirk  of  those  who  writhed  under  his  plain  preaching.  In  the 
western  part  of  New  York  a  distinction  had  lately  been  drawn  be- 
tween "  Old-measure"  men  and  "  New-measure"  men — correspond- 
ing to  the  distinction  between  the  Conservatives  and  the  Progressives 
in  the  State,  or  some  would  say,  the  Conservatives  and  Radicals. 
The  old-measure  men  liked  what  was  old — what  had  been  tried  by 
experience  and  proved  to  be  sound — old  doctrines — old  styles  of 
preaching — old  orders — old  ministers.  They  feared  change,  lest 
change  should  involve  destruction.  They  were  suspicious  of  alleged 
improvement,  in  a  system  for  the  promotion  of  religion,  which  ap- 
peared to  them  so  nearly  perfect.  They  shook  their  heads  at  these 
new-fangled  notions.  Their  fathers  followed  in  the  old  way,  and 
walked  uprightly,  and  they  would  not  be  wise  above  what  was  or- 
dained by  their  fathers.  The  new-measure  men,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  in  favor  of  progress  and  of  improvement ;  they  were  aggressive 
in  their  spirit ;  they  yearned  for  activity  and  excitement ;  they  wish- 
ed to  introduce  a  more  vigorous,  outworking  life  into  the  body  of 
the  church.  The  tendency  of  the  former  party  was  to  inertness  and 
inefficiency;  that  of  the  latter,  to  rashness  and  radicalism.  The 
ultraists  of  the  former  clung  to  the  old  way,  simply  because  it  was 
the  old  way ;  the  ultraists  of  the  latter  shouted  for  a  change,  simply 
because  it  was  a  change.  The  leaven  of  this  difference  of  sentiment 
worked  to  some  extent  throughout  all  the  churches,  though  it  was 
less  prominent  at  the  East  than  at  the  West.  There  it  broke  out 
into  fiery  excitement;  here  it  but  quickened  the  church  to  a 
healthy  activity.  It  was  felt  in  Dr.  Chester's  church,  and  those  who 
would  have  been  safe  new-measure  men  at  Buffalo,  were  the  friends 
of  Mr.  Kirk  in  Albany.  Hence,  when  they  understood  that  he  was 
not  to  be  retained  over  their  church,  they  set  about  to  form  a  new 
one  for  themselves.  They  were  not  only  friends  of  Mr.  Kirk,  simply 
as  Mr.  Kirk  the  eloquent  and  pungent  preacher,  but  of  Mr.  Kirk  as 
an  exponent  of  an  improved  system  for  the  dissemination  of  the 


22  EDWARD    XORKIS   EIEK. 

truth.  Hence,  in  a  short  time,  a  considerable  portion  of  Dr.  Ches- 
ter's church  (among  them  two  members  of  the  session)  withdrew, 
and  formed  another  church,  under  the  name  of  the  "  Fomth  Presby- 
terian Church  of  Albany,"  and  inWted  Mr.  Kirk  to  be  their  pastor. 
He  came  to  New  York,  was  ordained  by  the  Associate  Reformed 
Presbytery,  of  which  Dr.  John  Mason  was  a  member  (since  merged 
in  the  Old  School  Presbyterian  Church) — the  same  ecclesiastical 
body  which  had  before  Ucensed  him — and  accepted  the  inWtation. 
The  formation  of  the  new  church  was  a  good  thing ;  the  old  one, 
which  was  large,  was  not  weakened — a  new  one  was  established  in  a 
part  of  the  city  where  it  was  needed — two  flourishing  churches  ex- 
isted where  before  there  was  one — the  eloquence  and  zeal  of  Mr. 
Kirk  was  retained  for  the  spread  of  practical  Christianity  in  Albany ; 
and  everybody  that  loved  Christianity  was  finally  satisfied. 

The  eight  years  of  Mr.  Kirk's  life  in  Albany  were  years  of  abun- 
dant labor.  He  was  instant  in  season  and  out  of  season.  He  e^dnced 
superior  skill  in  the  organization  and  training  of  his  church,  so  that 
it  proved  to  be  a  remarkably  working  church.  System  pei^aded  its 
eflbrts,  and  each  member  filled  a  necessary  place.  It  is  said  that  at 
one  time  every  male  member  was  competent  to  take  part  in  pubhc 
religious  exercises.  The  church  was  divided  into  as  many  parts  as 
there  were  elders,  each  division  being  under  the  special  watch  and 
direction  of  its  elder  as  of  a  captain.  Besides  the  regular  church 
prayer-meeting,  each  division  had  its  own  weekly  gathering  for  the 
interchange  of  sentiment,  sympathy,  exhortation,  and  prayer,  which 
the  pastor  attended  in  rotation.  At  these  also  the  necessities,  har- 
assments,  and  trials  of  every-day  life  came  up  for  consideration  and 
relief.  Those  who  would  never  have  revealed  their  circumstances  to 
the  world,  were  confiding  here.  The  poor  widow  confessed  her  bur- 
den, and  the  hard-pressed  business  man  acknowledged  the  power  of 
sympathy,  and  efiective  measures  always  followed  for  aid  and  relief. 

Accessions  were  made  at  every  communion.  It  may  be  said  that 
one  continuous  redval  attended  the  church,  with  the  natural  in- 
equalities of  a  greater  or  less  freshness  of  interest.  During  the 
eight  years  over  one  thousand  persons  united  with  it.  The  ward 
in  which  the  church  was  located  was  revolutionized.     It  had  been 


FARErV\^ELL   SERMON.  2o 

one  of  the  worst  of  tlie  city,  where  intemperance  and  license  held 
sway.  It  became  the  most  orderly,  and  now  includes  the  residences 
of  many  of  the  best  and  wealthiest  of  the  citijzens.  Mr.  Kirk  intro- 
duced into  Albany  the  re\ival  era.  Before  he  went  there  the  con- 
servatism of  the  place  had  resisted  all  such  religious  movements, 
and  so  successfully  that  even  Nettleton,  an  apostle  of  revivals,  suc- 
ceeded the  year  before  only  in  softening  the  superficies  of  the  in- 
crustation. But  Mr.  Kirk  and  his  church  broke  it  to  pieces,  and 
during  these  eight  years  it  was  never  reunited. 

After  having  presented  this  view  of  the  causes  which  led  to  the 
separation,  it  is  just  to  Mi*.  Kirk  to  present  an  extract  from  his  vale- 
dictory sermon  preached  eight  years  afterwards : 

"  I  have  felt  my  soul,  my  being,  identified  with  this  church.  More 
than  eight  years  have  rolled  away  since  I  saw  the  first  little  band 
cluster  together  in  the  name  and  strength  of  the  God  of  Israel,  to 
raise  another  banner  to  his  glory.  To  have  said  much  about  it  be- 
fore the  present  time,  would  virtually  have  been  to  speak  of  mysel£ 
But  that  period  is  past.  Since  the  purpose  has  been  fixed  to  leave 
you  for  a  time — perhaps  forever — a  new  feeling  has  come  over 
my  heart.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  stand  aside  with  a  more  chastened 
affection  and  more  impartial  eye,  to  behold  the  wonders  and 
riches  of  divine  mercy.  To-night  I  take  with  you  a  review  of  that 
period.  To  those  who  now  constitute  this  church,  my  message  is— 
behold  what  the  Lord  hath  wrought !  It  is  befitting  this  solemn 
and  trying  occasion  to  recount,  like  Israel  of  old,  the  mercies  of 
God,  that  you  may  praise  his  name — that  you  may  understand  more 
definitely  the  history  of  the  principles  of  this  association,  with  which 
you  have  become  so  intimately  connected — that  you  may  feel  your 
obligations. 

"  It  is  usual  on  such  occasions  for  the  pastor  to  speak  of  his  own 
labors.  I  cannot  do  it.  K  I  tell  all  that  is  in  my  heart,  I  shall  fall 
upon  my  knees  and  cry — 'Deliver  me  from  blood-guiltiness.'  I 
shall  supplicate  forgiveness  of  the  church — I  shall  weep  at  the  feet 
of  sinners,  and  ask  them  to  forgive  my  selfishness,  and  my  unfaith- 
fulness and  cruelty  to  their  souls. 

"  To  illustrate  God's  goodness,  let  us  place  the  beginning  and  the 


M 


EDWAED    NOREIS   KIRK. 


end  of  the  period  of  eight  years  together.  On  the  16tli  of  Novem- 
ber, 1828,  I  preached  the  lii'st  sermon  to  a  company  collected  in  the 
consistory  room,  kindly  oflered  to  us  by  the  oflScers  of  the  North 
Dutch  Church,  who  have  thus  imposed  a  debt  which  we  would 
cheerfully  repay  in  the  same  currency,  if  an  opportunity  occurred, 
as  we  have  endeavored  to  repay  it  in  thankfulness  and  benedictions. 

"  There  were  then  two  views  taken  of  the  entei'prise.  On  the  one 
side,  both  the  friends  and  the  enemies  of  God  said  it  was  an  unholy 
enterprise,  unwise  and  uncalled  for ;  I  was  charged  with  fanaticism 
and  boyish  indiscretion.  It  was  said  by  the  sagacious,  '  What  do 
these  men  build  ?  behold,  if  a  fox  go  up  on  their  walls,  they  will  fall 
down.'  When  this  building  was  commenced,  some  ridiculed ;  ob- 
structions met  us  in  the  usual  financial  arrangements,  suspicions 
were  set  afloat  concerning  the  safety  of  crediting  any  one  connected, 
even  indirectly,  with  the  enterprise.  When  the  first  indications  of 
the  special  presence  of  God's  Spirit  were  experienced,  we  were 
branded  with  the  severest  epithets,  and  the  ears  of  God's  children 
were  open  to  the  falsehoods  of  the  wicked. 

"  Now,  God  forbid  that  I  should  refer  to  the  past  in  a  spirit  of  re- 
venge, or  of  boasting.  I  should  loathe  myself  if  I  could  ever  in- 
dulge such  feelings,  but  especially  on  such  an  occasion.  God  knows 
my  heart  towards  this  whole  community,  and  towards  those  who 
were  once  my  bitterest  enemies.  I  do  not  boast ;  but  I  say,  that  on 
the  one  side  were  these  views,  and  feelings,  and  predictions ;  on  the 
other,  with  much  human  imperfection,  we  certainly  had  for  our  lead- 
ing principles  and  feelings — a  determination  to  sustain  the  plain, 
honest  exhibition  of  the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  without  consulting  un- 
converted men,  whether  they  were  pleased  or  displeased — and  an 
unwavering  confidence  that  God  would  bless  us  if  we  served  him ! 

"  There  were  many  considerations  which  induced  me  to  remain 
here.  Low  and  selfish  motives  were  attributed.  My  friends !  (I  say 
it  to  the  glory  of  God)  I  had  as  much  confidence  when  I  met  in  the 
first  prayer-meeting  with  twenty  persons,  that  God  would  greatly 
bless  us,  as  I  have  now  that  he  has  blessed  us.  Do  not  call  it  pre- 
sumption, for  I  knew  that  I  was  surrounded  by  a  praying  band 
Among  many  other  considerations  which  induced  me  to  remain  and 


FAREWELL  SEEMON.  25 

bear  the  peltings  of  the  pitiless  storm,  was  tlie  fact,  as  stated  then  to 
me,  that  a  number  of  Christians  were  engaged  in  prayer  from  sun- 
set to  sunrise,  that  I  might  not  be  peimitted  to  leave  the  city.  That 
turned  the  scale ;  I  could  not  desert  such  spirits ;  and  I  knew  God 
would  bless  them.  I  saw  it,  I  felt  it ;  and  I  feel  now  as  if  I  could 
go  gladly  to  attack  the  spirits  in  the  pit,  if  God  sent  me,  surrounded 
by  such  hearts.  And,  more  than  this,  this  enterprise  and  my  un- 
worthy name  were  on  the  lips  of  hundreds  of  God's  praying  people, 
from  this  city  to  Buffalo.  An  eminent  saint,  who  preached  over  a 
wide  circuit,  was  in  the  habit  of  encouraging  the  churches  to  bear 
our  cause  to  the  mercy-seat  continually.  I  consider  this  church  as 
a  monument  inscribed  with  the  evidences  of  the  power  of  prayer, 
and  the  faithfulness  of  Jacob's  God.  The  enemy  said,  '  By  whom 
shall  Jacob  arise  ?  for  he  is  small.'  We  replied,  '  In  God  is  oiu-  trust ; 
we  will  make  om'  boast  in  the  Lord.' 

"  Now  let  us  see  how  the  Lord  hath  dealt  with  us.  Truly  he 
hath  encouraged  the  hearts  of  them  that  believed,  and  he  hath  si- 
lenced the  enemy  and  avenger.  I  preached  from  November,  1828, 
to  February,  1829,  at  which  time  the  church  was  organized.  And 
it  seemed  as  if  the  Lord  would  try  our  faith  by  suspending  the  mani- 
festation of  his  favor,  until  as  a  distinct,  organized,  and  consecrated 
church,  we  sat  down  for  the  first  time  to  celebrate  the  death  of 
Christ.  I  shall  never  forget  that  day.  After  its  toils  were  over,  I 
was  sent  for,  late  at  night,  to  see  a  trembling  soul  who  had  that  day 
been  brought  to  see  her  guilt  and  danger.  That  was  the  fii'st  fmit 
of  a  glorious  harvest.  An  inquiry  meeting  was  appointed,  and  to 
my  surprise,  upwards  of  sixty  were  present.  From  that  day  to  this, 
we  have  not  passed  the  year  without  some  special  outpouring  of  the 
Spirit  of  God. 

"  It  would  animate  the  hearts  of  other  Christians  to  hear  a  de- 
scription of  the  exercises  of  many  who  have  been  converted.  Never 
can  I  forget  that  beloved  apartment  of  this  building,  where  I  have 
met  the  inquirers,  and  where  I  have  seen  them  consecrate  themselves 
to  God  and  the  Lamb.  Oh  !  what  changes  in  individual  character ; 
in  families,  nay,  in  neighborhoods,  hath  God's  blessed  Spirit  A\Tought ! 
"Within  this  period  there  have  been  united  to  this  church,  by  letter 


26  EDWARD    NOKEIS   KIEK. 

and  on  confession,  one  thousand  and  twelve  members,  making  an 
average  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  each  year.  The  Sabbath- 
school  has  contained  one  thousand  five  hundred  pupils. 

"We  have  contiibuted  moneys  which  I  can  trace  as  follows: 
Domestic  Missions,  $853  ;  Tract  Society,  $823 ;  Colonization,  $215  ; 
Bible  Society,  $170;  City  objects,  $1,220;  Sabbath-school,  $700; 
Theological  Education,  $4,964;  Foreign  Missions,  $4,900.  Total, 
$13,843 — an  average  of  $1,730  per  annum.  We  incurred  imme- 
diately on  our  organization  a  heavy  debt,  which  is  now,  by  our  own 
exertions  and  the  aid  of  friends,  nearly  extinguished. 

"  The  foundation-stone  of  this  enterprise  was  laid  emphatically  in 
prayer;  the  duty  of  prayer  has  been  enjoined  and  urged  incessantly. 
Meetings  for  prayer  have  been  multiplied  to  a  degTce,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  many,  extravagant.  Now,  it  is  not  fair  to  presume  that  there 
has  been  any  more  sincere  prayer  here  in  proportion  than  with  other 
Christians.  But  it  is  fair  to  suppose  that  there  has  been  as  much  in 
proportion,  and  consequently  that  there  has  been  in  fact  more  real 
prayer  than  in  most  societies  around  us.  We  have  assembled  in  the 
early  morning  for  months.  We  have  met,  for  long  periods,  at  ten 
o'clock  every  morning  to  pray  directly  for  the  conversion  of  the  im- 
penitent. We  have  believed  in  the  transcendent  importance  of  the 
conversion  of  men.  We  have  prayed  for  it.  We  have  witnessed  it 
in  hundreds  of  joyful  instances.  All  our  history  is  such  a  demon- 
stration of  the  eflBcacy  of  prayer,  that,  if  I  had  never  had  any  other 
proof,  I  should  feel  an  overwhelming  sense  of  obligation  to  pray 
without  ceasing. 

"  We  commenced  with  a  love  to  the  cause  of  evangelizing  the 
world.  In  debt  as  a  church,  poor  as  individuals,  we  have  never  yet 
failed  to  do  our  proportion,  not  of  what  ought  to  be  done,  but  of 
what  has  been  done  in  this  great  cause.  There  were  times  when  the 
faith  of  some  of  our  brethren  staggered  on  this  point ;  it  seemed  to 
them  presumptuous  to  be  sending  away  hundreds  of  dollars  to  others, 
when  a  heavy  burden  hung  upon  our  own  wheels.  But  we  have 
never  failed.  For  the  last  six  years  we  have  supported  a  foreign 
missionary,  and  during  the  current  year  we  have  raised  by  subscrip- 
tion nearly  three  hundred  dollars  more.     But  wo  have  lost  nothing. 


FAREWELL  SERMON.  27 

The  monthly  concert  of  prayer  has  been  to  us  a  delightful  season. 
In  watering  others,  we  have  ever  been  watered  ourselves.  And 
when  at  leng-th  we  struggled  to  roll  off  our  heavy  debt,  God  helped 
us.  He  inclined  the  hearts  of  our  young  men  to  step  promptly  for- 
ward ;  and  he  raised  up  for  us  kind  friends  in  the  community. 

"  We  have  been  met,  as  before  remarked,  with  the  sentiment  in 
various  forms — that  the  Church  and  her  ministers  must  not  go  in 
advance  of  public  sentiment.  The  pledge  to  abstain  from  ardent 
spirits  was  thought  by  many  to  be  a  very  good  thing ;  but  it  was 
not  discreet  to  introduce  the  subject  into  the  pulpit,  and  to  urge  it 
forward.  We  believed  not  so.  Nay  more ;  we  believed  that  it  was 
our  duty  as  a  chm'ch  to  admit  no  one  to  our  communion  who  would 
not  enter  into  this  stipulation.  We  wanted  no  Christians  who  could 
stand  aside  and  look  with  indifference  upon  this  noble  effort  of  phi- 
lanthropy and  i^iety.  We  have  never  had  occasion  to  regret  it,  but 
much  reason  to  rejoice  in  it.  God  has  blessed  it.  Many  reformed 
inebriates  have  entered  this  church,  and  to  my  knowledge  there  is  no 
case  of  relapse.  The  walls  of  this  building  have  resounded  for  suc- 
cessive months  with  the  pleas  of  the  eloquent  friends  of  temperance ; 
and  many  a  heart  has  been  gladdened,  as  the  father,  husband,  and 
son  have  come  forward  and  pledged  themselves  to  the  abandonment 
of  the  destructive  drink.  The  plea  for  the  Sabbath,  and  the  plea  for 
the  seventh  commandment,  have  been  urged  here.  And  I  rejoice 
that  on  this  platform  has  been  urged  the  claim  of  the  enslaved.  I 
have  heard  of  the  danger  of  exposing  the  building  and  the  audience 
to  molestation.  I  have  heard  of  something  worse — the  odium  at- 
tached to  the  cause  of  liberty.  But  we  have  gloried  to  bear  that 
odiimi.  We  rejoice  that  God  enabled  us  to  erect  one  of  the  build- 
ings in  this  city  where  the  cry  of  the  oppressed  and  down-trodden 
could  be  echoed  in  the  ear  of  Christian  sympathy.  We  feel  assm-ed 
that  it  is  right.  We  bless  God  for  the  assurance  which  his  provi- 
dence affords  us,  that  it  is  right  for  his  Church  to  be  the  pioneer  of 
moral  reformations.  The  right  of  opinion  is  a  natural  right ;  the 
right  of  expressing  opinion  is  another,  conferred  by  the  author  of  the 
human  constitution,  and  both  sacredly  guaranteed  by  the  bond  of 
our  political  union.     And  I  know  nothing  more  alarming  in  modern 


28  EDWAED    NOREIS   KIEK. 

politics,  tlaan  the  attempt  to  browbeat  free  Amencan  citizens  in  the 
peaceful  maintenance  of  eternal  truths,  and  to  persecute  them  for  the 
candid,  manly,  and  courteous  expression  of  those  sentiments.  We 
have  a  right  to  tiy  to  con^dnce  the  North  and  South.  Ministers 
have  a  right  from  God,  and  a  commission  and  a  warrant  from  the 
American  constitution,  to  expose  the  sins  and  dangers  involved  in 
the  system  of  oppression  legalized  and  practised  among  us.  I  am 
ashamed  to  hear  it  said  that  there  are  places  in  America  where  you 
cannot  candidly  and  temperately  discuss  great  questions  of  pubhc 
duty  and  safety. 

"  Hearing  no  preaching  out  of  this  place,  I  am  unable  to  form  a 
judgment  concerning  the  various  styles  adopted  in  this  city.  But  I 
know  that  when  I  preached  to  another  congregation,  they  turned  me 
from  them  because  I  preached  too  directly  and  pungently.  I  never 
could  hear  any  other  objection  on  the  most  careful  inquiry.  On 
that  point  I  w^as  entreated  to  change.  But  on  that  point  this  church 
took  its  stand  from  the  commencement,  and  determined  to  welcome 
the  most  direct  and  pungent  preaching  that  was  according  to  the 
word  of  God.  Now  for  the  importance  of  it ;  it  is  to  us  most  mani- 
fest that  God  has  connected  the  conversion  of  hundreds  with  that  as 
an  indispensable  means.  As  to  the  policy  of  it,  it  was  said,  '  "Why, 
men  will  desert  your  churches.'  God  has  shown  us  that  it  is  not  so. 
And  more  than  that,  I  am  the  Hving  witness  to  the  fact  that  the 
churches  in  this  city  will  now  bear  a  degree  of  directness  and  pun- 
gency that  would  once  have  been  thought  intolerable.  I  am  told 
that  I  have  altered.  I  say  that  public  sentiment  has  altered.  One 
of  the  most  comdncing  proofs  of  it  to  me  is,  that  I  am  ashamed  now 
to  preach  those  very  sermons  which  made  the  distiu-bance  in  the 
Second  Church,  because  they  are  too  tame  and  pointless. 

"  And  now,  dear  friends !  having  shown  what  God  hath  wrought 
for  and  by  this  society,  you  will  pennit  me  to  speak  more  directly 
of  God's  mercies  to  me  as  your  pastor.  No  man  can  tell  what  I 
have  passed  through  in  this  city.  My  entrance  here  was  flattering ; 
my  reception,  every  thing  I  could  ask  as  a  man  and  a  minister.  So 
long  as  foreign  missions  was  my  topic,  all  went  well.  But  when  I 
turned  to  show  the  amiable,  and  moral,  and  respected  of  this  com- 


FAREWELL  SERMON. 


mimity  tliat  tliey  were  more  guilty  than  the  heathen,  and  were  going 
to  a  deeper  condemnation,  they  rose  in  might  against  me.    I  had 
never  known  an  enemy  before,  since  my  conversion.     I  had  never 
been  slandered.    But  now  a  new  scene  awaited  me  in  this  goodly 
city.     I  was  reviled;  my  sermons  and  sentiments  were  misrepre- 
sented ;  friends  grew  cold,  and  enemies  multiplied,     For  a  striplmg 
this  was  new,  and,  you  may  be  sure,  well-nigh  overwhelming.    My 
heart  overflowed  with  love  to  all.     I  could  not  see  why  any  should 
persecute  me.    But,  oh  1  it  was  a  blessed  school.     I  would  not  part 
with  the  lessons  there  learned  for  all  the  enjoyments  of  an  undis- 
turbed prosperity.    Yet  for  three  years  I  walked  the  streets  of  this 
city,  feeling  as  if,  by  God's  command,  I  was  an  intruder  here.     I 
have  felt  as  if  the  very  houses  frowned  upon  me.     Cheerfully  would 
I  have  fled  and  hid  myself,  like  Elijah,  in  a  cave ;  but  the  very  style 
of  the  opposition  showed  clearly  that  the  controversy  was  with  God 
and  his  word,  not  with  the  lips  of  clay  which  uttered  it. 

"But  I  turn  from  that  to  speak  of  the  hearts  which  cherished, 
and  the  hands  which  upheld  me  in  those  trying  days.     Brethren! 
sisters!  I  thus  publicly  thank  you.    You  gave  not  only  a  cup  of 
cold  water  to  a  disciple  when  it  was  a  reproach  to  you,  you  shared 
his  sorrows,  you  shielded  his  reputation  with  your  own,  you  would 
have  shared  the  last  earthly  comfort  with  him,  you  would  have  died 
with  him  for  Christ.     You  wept  for  me,  yon  carried  my  burdens, 
you  prayed  for  me.    I  know  it.    And  my  heart  thanks  you;  my 
soul  clings  to  you.    But  chiefly  I  recognize  the  goodness  of  God  m 
it,  in  whose  hands  are  all  hearts.     I  thank  the  members  of  the 
church  for  their  forbearance,  and  sympathy,  and  respect,  and  the 
many  proofs  of  their  love.     Nothing  but  love  has  made  you  bear 
with  my  very  hnperfect  discharge  of  the  duties  that  I  owed  you. 
God  hath  wrought  in  you  this  heart  of  kindness.     My  highest 
thanks  are  due  to  Him.    I  thank  God,  this  night,  before  you  all,  for 
his  provident  care  of  me.     I  have  not  been  prevented  by  sickniess 
from  preaching  so  many  as  twelve  Sabbaths  for  nearly  nine  years. 
Since  commencing  to  form  this  church,  I  have  preached  to  you 
about  one  thousand  sermons.    I  have  assisted  other  churches  m  sus- 
taining more  than  thirty  protracted  meetings.     I  have  delivered 


30  EDWAKD   NORRIS   KIEK. 

ninety  addresses  on  Temperance ;  more  than  a  hundred  addresses  on 
Foreign  Missions ;  many  on  Slavery ;  many  for  objects  in  our  city ; 
for  the  Tract,  Bible,  Education,  and  other  societies ;  attended  and 
addressed  the  various  societies  in  three  anniversaries  at  New  York, 
one  at  Cincinnati,  one  at  Lexington,  Kentucky,  one  at  Boston,  one 
at  Troy.  I  have  performed  a  tour  through  many  principal  cities  in 
this  State  and  into  Canada,  on  the  subject  of  Common  School  Edu- 
cation. 

"  With  the  fullest  sense  of  my  unworthiness  to  labor  in  so  glorious 
a  cause,  do  I,  this  night,  render  thanks  to  God  for  bestowing  upon 
me  the  ability  and  disposition  to  perform  these  labors.  Brethren ! 
I  have  become  a  fool  in  glorying ;  but  God  is  my  witness,  I  do  it 
for  his  glory.  I  dare  not  refrain.  I  have  been  a  child  of  Provi- 
dence. David  could  not  hold  his  tongue  from  uttering  the  mercies 
of  God  after  his  great  deliverances. 

"And  now,  brethren!  I  am  about  to  say — Farewell!  I  leave 
you,  not  because  I  do  not  love  you.  My  heart  grows  closer  to  you 
every  day.  This  church  appears  to  me  more  interesting  and  more 
important  than  ever.  I  go,  because  I  believe  I  ought  to  go.  Europe 
is  dear  to  my  heart ;  but  America  is  dearer.  And  I  know  that,  if 
permitted,  I  shall  hail  its  shores  again  with  delight.  I  go  to  gather 
light  from  the  experience  of  ages — to  see  man  in  other  climates,  and 
under  other  institutions.  My  soul  pants  for  knowledge,  human  and 
divine.  But  I  would  not  indulge  the  desire,  could  not  that  knowl- 
edge, when  acquired,  be  employed  for  greater  usefulness.  Be  as- 
sured it  is  not  for  myself.  Whatever  I  am  now,  or  may  be  here- 
after, is  my  country's  and  my  God's.  I  consecrate  it  to  the  Church 
of  Christ  and  to  the  human  race. 

"Brethren!  what  mean  ye  to  weep  and  break  my  heart?  If 
there  be  pleasure  in  the  prospect  of  seeing  many  wonders,  of  witness- 
ing the  splendid  trophies  of  human  genius,  of  indulging  the  power- 
ful desires  of  curiosity,  I  have  felt  little  of  it ;  and  less  and  less  as 
the  time  of  our  separation  has  approached.  The  recollections  of  the 
past,  the  evidences  of  your  ardent  and  unbought  love,  the  anticipa- 
tion of  your  painful  feelings,  when  an  accustomed  voice,  which  your 
own  kindness  has  made  you  love  to  hear,  shall  be  heard  no  more— 


FAEEWELL  SERMON. 


31 


tliese  considerations  have  occupied  my  mind  supremely.  The  ques- 
tion, 'How  sliall  I  accomplish  the  most  good  for  this  beloved  people 
during  the  brief  period  of  our  intercourse?'  has  weighed  heavily  on 
my  heart.  And  now  the  end  of  this  anxiety  is  reached,  and  I  am 
called  to  perform  the  last  act  of  religious  service  in  this  endeared 
sanctuary.  Oh !  it  is  with  a  heavy  heart  that  I  say  to  such  friends 
—farewell !  Deeply  shall  your  names,  your  countenances  be  en- 
graven on  this  memory.  I  shall  carry  a  catalogue  of  them  with  me, 
and  spread  it  before  that  mercy-seat  at  which  we  have  so  often  met. 
My  children !  my  brothers !  my  fathers !  walk  in  the  truth.  God 
has  been  with  you,  is  with  you,  has  promised  still  to  be  with  you. 
Look  at  all  the  way  in  which  he  has  led  you.  Ebenezers  line  the 
path  of  your  history.  Each  one  speaks  to  your  heart—'  Be  of  good 
courage,  for  our  God  is  an  unchanging  God.' 

"  Brethren  in  the  eldership !  called  to  watch  over  this  flock  with 
me,  a  double  responsibility  will  now  come  upon  you.     I  can  no 
longer  share  that  superintendence.     But  it  is  not  among  the  least  of 
God's  mercies  that  the  recent  meetings  which  we  have  held,  the  en- 
largement of  your  numbers,  and  the  plan  of  operations  adopted,  give 
such  promise  of  benefits  to  the  church.     Be  regular,  be  punctual  in 
your  sessional  meetings.     Go  to  this  aflaicted  people;  watch  over 
them ;  for  the  tempter  will  now  have  peculiar  power  over  many,  by 
making  a  readier  excuse  for  deserting  the  ordinances  and  the  house 
of  God.     Watch  over  every  wheel  in  our  moral  machinery.     See 
that  none  of  them  stop,  see-  that  each  is  kept  in  repair,  and  is  mov- 
ing in  its  place.     I  commend  to  you  the  Sabbath-schools,  the  Bible- 
classes,  the  Young  Men's  Association,  the  Maternal  Association,  the 
Converts'  Class,  the  Prayer-meeting,  the  Tract  distribution,  the  Be- 
nevolent Societies.     See  that  this  people  hear  the  claims  of  each 
during  eveiy  year.    Do  not  let  them  hug  their  purses,  and  close 
their  "ear  to  the  cry  of  the  perishing.     Call  the  attention  of  this 
people  to  the  great  moral  reformations  of  our  day.     Enlist  their 
hearts  for  the  drunkard,  the  slave,  the  unwary  youth  who  walks 
amid  the  snares  of  the  licentious,  the  Sabbath-profaner.     Point  this 
people  to  the  times,  and  seasons,  and  ways,  when  they  can  labor 
with  special  promise  of  success  for  the  conversion  of  sinners. 


32  EDWAED  NOEEIS   KIEK. 

"  Citizens  of  Albany !  farewell !  Have  I  wronged  you,  have  I 
misled,  or  have  I  been  as  a  prophet  of  the  Lord  in  the  midst  of  you  ? 
Speak ;  for  I  am  now  sealing  the  first  section  of  my  ministry,  per- 
haps the  last  among  you.  I  have  stood  on  yon  heights  and  looked 
over  your  dwellings,  and  my  anxious  thoughts  have  dwelt  upon  your 
spiritual  interests ;  my  fervent  prayers  have  arisen  for  you  and  your 
children.  I  have  been  willing  to  labor  for  the  general  good,  just  as 
much  as  for  this  individual  association.  K  any  have  injured  me,  I 
would  that  they  knew  how  fully  they  are  forgiven.  K  I  have  in- 
jured any,  I  would  that  they  knew  how  sincerely  I  implore  forgive- 
ness. Many  of  you  have  kindly  appreciated  my  desires  for  your 
welfare,  whatever  you  have  thought  of  the  imperfect  manner  em- 
ployed to  promote  it.  You  are  kind,  and  your  kindness  will  be  re- 
membered. 

"  Members  of  sister  churches !  God  bless  you,  and  make  you  grow 
in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Remem- 
ber your  absent  brother. 

"Unconverted  fellow-citizens!  hear  the  last  word  of  a  parting 
friend;  make  Christ  your  Saviour,  and  heaven  your  prize.  *Ye 
must  be  bom  again.'  Turn,  then,  quickly  to  the  Lord,  and  your 
souls  shall  live. 

"Again,  dear  friends !  farewell — farewell." 


REVIVALS — LIFE    AT   BOSTON. 

In  April,  1837,  ^Mr.  Kirk  sailed  for  Europe.  His  labors  had  been 
excessive,  and  he  went  to  recruit  health,  and  to  pursue  certain  theo- 
logical studies  in  which  he  felt  himself  deficient.  It  was  his  inten- 
tion to  go  to  Germany,  but  certain  circumstances,  which  were  not  of 
his  ordering,  induced  him  to  stop  at  Paris.  Here  he  held  a  series 
of  religious  meetings  in  connection  with  Dr.  Baird,  and  afterwards 
conducted  Sabbath  services  in  English  in  Rue  Saint  Anne.  The  in- 
terest in  them  was  universal  and  ardent.  During  this  residenco 
abroad,  Mr.  Kirk  visited  London,  and  held  a  series  of  religious  meet- 
ings at  Surrey  Chapel,  distinguished  as  the  church  of  Rowland  Hill. 


FKEE   CHURCHES.  33 

Here  also  the  interest  excited  by  liis  ministrations  was  great,  and 
the  fruits  m6st  gratifying  to  the  heart  of  the  Christian.  About 
one  hundred  persons  were  hopefully  converted.  Mr.  Kirk  after- 
wards held  a  similar  series  of  meetings  in  Spafield's  Chapel  (Lady 
Huntingdon's),  the  fruits  of  which  were  equally  abundant  with 
the  former.  He  was  strongly  urged  to  settle  in  London  by  the 
Enghsh,  with  whom  he  is  the  fiivorite  of  American  preachers,  as 
also  in  Paris  by  the  Americans  there;  but  these  solicitations  he 
declined. 

During  his  absence,  he  was  appointed  Secretary  of  the  Foreign 
Evangelical  Society,  under  whose  auspices  his  labors  had  been  pros- 
ecuted in  Paris.  His  department  was  that  of  gi^^ng  information 
to  the  American  Churches  with  respect  to  the  Society,  arousing 
interest,  and  soliciting  aid.  To  this  end  he  returned  to  this  coun- 
try in  September,  1839,  and  immediately  commenced  his  new 
duties. 

While  at  Albany,  Mr.  Kirk  had  become  extensively  known,  by  the 
wide  diffusion  of  his  labors.  All  recognized  his  uncommon  power 
in  touching  the  heart  and  arousing  the  conscience.  He  was  es- 
teemed as  an  Evangelist  of  the  times.  He  had  preached  nearly  as 
much  out  of  his  own  church  as  in  it,  delivering  probably  six  ser- 
mons each  week  during  the  greater  part  of  those  eight  years.  From 
the  years  1830  to  1832  he  had  preached  much  in  New  York  city, 
in  connection  with  the  Presbyterian  Free  Church  system  of  that 
day. 

The  beginning  of  this  movement  is  as  diflScult  to  define,  as  it 
is  difficult  to  tell  precisely  when  morning  breaks  in  the  east.  It 
resulted  from  an  anxious  interest,  on  the  part  of  some  Christians, 
for  that  large  class  of  a  large  city,  who  are  outside  of  the  influence 
of  preachers,  Sabbaths,  and  Bibles,  and  from  a  dissatisfaction  with 
the  working  of  the  established  system  of  churches,  in  failing  to 
reach  the  degraded  and  profane.  It  was  preceded  by  serious  con- 
sultations on  the  morals  of  the  city  and  the  inactivity  of  the  church, 
and  by  prayer-meetings  of  unusual  earnestness.  Simultaneous  with 
these,  the  first  aggressive  movement  into  the  ranks  of  the  outcast 
was  made  by  a  few  humble  and  zealous  Christians  in  1829,  in  the 


34:  KDWAKD    NOKKIS    KIIIK. 

starting  of  prayer-meetings  at  the  "  Five  Points,"  the  "  St.  Giles** 
of  New  York.  This  sink  of  corruption  was  then  even  worse  than 
when  the  reformation  of  Mr.  Pease  commenced — refeiTed  to  in  an- 
other article.  Baxter  Sayre  was  a  man  whose  touIq  from  house? 
to  shop  led  him  past  this  wretched  place,  and  whose  heart  was 
moved  within  him  at  what  he  saw,  and  no  peace  was  granted  him 
till  having  associated  with  him  "  Father  Cunningham,"  an  elder  in 
Dr.  Gardiner  Spring's  church,  and  a  few  others,  he  opened  evening 
prayer-meetings  in  the  grog-shops,  cellars,  and  brothels  of  the  "  Five 
Points."  These  meetings  developed  into  organized  Sabbath-schools, 
and  regTilar  preaching ;  and  finally  Mr.  Sayre  moved  with  his  family 
into  the  heart  of  the  district,  taking  a  residence  and  opening  a  day- 
school  at  No.  45  Orange-street.  His  daughters  devoted  themselves 
to  the  school,  statedly  assisted  by  ladies  from  the  city,  among  whom 
we  may  mention  the  daughter  of  Isabella  Graham  and  mother  of 
Dr.  Bethune. 

The  "First  Free  Presbyterian  Church,"  organized  as  such,  held 
its  first  meeting,  June  2'7th,  1830,  in  Thames-street,  with  Pev.  Joel 
Parker  as  the  pastor,  who  had  been  invited  from  Pochester  by 
Lewis  Tappan,  Dr.  Bliss,  and  two  others,  who  pledged  themselves 
to  defray  the  expenses.  Thus  was  initiated  a  movement,  which, 
rapidly  accumulating  power  in  its  progress,  became  an  influenco 
throughout  the  city,  and  resulted  in  a  remarkable  religious  awaken- 
ing among  the  infidel,  the  profane,  and  the  outcast.  Christians  be- 
gan to  attach  themselves  to  it  as  teachers  and  exhorters.  Prayer 
meetings  were  opened  at  all  points,  not  only  in  assembly-rooms,  but 
in  liquor  stores  and  saloons,  where  access  could  be  obtained.  Chil- 
dren were  gathered  from  the  streets  into  day-schools  and  Sabbath- 
schools;  wards  were  districted,  so  that  every  fomily  should  be 
visited,  and  invitations  given  to  religious  gatherings;  abandoned 
women  were  induced  to  leave  the  ways  of  vice  ;  the  moral  statistics 
of  portions  of  the  city  were  gathered,  and  the  foundation  laid  for 
the  system  of  Homes  for  the  Friendless  which  is  now  in  organized 
and  complete  operation. 

It  was  the  plan  to  open  }>laces  of  public  worship  where  the  seats 
should  be  free,  and  the  expenses  paid  by  miscellaneous  contributions, 


CIIATHA^I   THEATRE.  35 

to  .mploy  preachers  of  popular  gifts  for  extempore  speaking,  and 
b}  personal  efforts  to  gather  audiences  of  those  who  never  attended 
church.  Those  interested  in  the  enterprise  subscribed  the  amount 
which  they  felt  able  to  give,  and  on  one  Sunday  of  each  month  de- 
posited in  a  box  in  the  church  the  monthly  instalment,  in  a  paper 
bearing  their  signature.  Some  gave  very  generously  :  as  an  instance 
we  may  mention  the  name  of  Mr.  Dimond,  a  mechanic  and  jeweller. 
Early  in  the  enterprise  his  acquaintance  was  made,  and  at  thi^5 
first  interview  he  said  with  frank  generosity,  "  I  am  a  mechanic,  I 
have  been  a  Christian  only  a  few  months,  I  never  have  done  any 
thing  for  Christ ;  but  I  have  a  good  business,  and  I  think  I  can 
work  out  with  these  hands  a  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  a  free 
church."  And  he  did :  and  that  man,  in  company  with  another, 
afterwards  built  Broadway  Tabernacle,  in  which  enterprise  he  in- 
vested thirty-five  thousand  dollars,  the  greater  part  of  which  was 
absorbed  Avithout  ever  paying  dividends.  The  influence  spread 
among  the  merchants^  so  that  many  of  them  met  down  town  for 
prayer,  and,  in  several  stores,  partners  and  clerks  retired  for  prayer 
during  business  hours. 

The  movement  advanced  rapidly.  On  the  14th  of  February  the 
"  Second  Free  Presbyterian  Church"  was  organized,  with  Rev.  E.  P. 
Barrows  as  the  preacher.  In  March,  Rev.  Charles  G.  Finney  was 
invited  to  the  head  of  a  third  company.  The  city  was  searched 
for  a  suitable  hall,  as  audience  rooms  were  rare  then,  and  finally 
Chatham-street  Theatre  was  suggested.  Here  were  gathering  every 
night  some  fifteen  hundred  people,  admitted  for  twelve  and  twenty- 
five  cents  each,  where  debauchery,  obscenity,  and  intemperance 
centred,  in  unexampled  license. 

Two  gentlemen  called  on  the  lessee,  Mr.  Blanchard,  in  his  room 
in  the  theatre,  and  introducing  themselves  proposed  to  him  to  sell 
his  lease.  "  ^Vhat  for  ?"  he  bluntly  asked.  "  For  a  church."  "  A 
w-h-a-t !"  "  A  church,  sir."  With  open  mouth  and  eyes,  he  said, 
"  You  mean  to  make  a  c-h-u-r-c-h  here  !"  And  then,  with  one  of 
those  mysterious  re\Tilsions  of  feeling,  the  tears  started  from  the 
hardened  man's  eyes,  and  he  added,  "  You  may  have  it,  and  I  will 
give  one  thousand  dollars  towards  it,"  and  he  did.     Tho  barr>-;nn 


36  EDWARD    NORKIS    KIRK. 

was  soon  completed,  and  at  the  close  of  a  morning  rehearsal,  by 
pre-arrangement,  "The  voice  of  free  grace"  was  sung,  and  Lewis 
Tappan  announced  to  the  actors,  that  on  a  following  Sunday,  and 
thereafter  on  every  evening,  there  would  be  preaching  in  that  place^ 
the  scenery  would  be  removed,  the  pulpit  placed  in  the  centre  of 
the  stao-e,  an  "  anxious  seat"  would  front  the  footlights,  and  all  were 
invited  to  be  present. 

The  pit  having  been  covered  with  a  floor,  and  temporary  seats 
provided  for  three  hundred  persons,  public  announcement  was  made 
that  a  morning  prayer-meeting  would  be  held  in  the  old  theatre  at 
half-past  five  o'clock,  and  Christians  of  all  denominations  were  in- 
vited to  attend.  To  the  surprise  of  all,  eight  hundred  persons  were 
present  at  the  hour.  Prayers  were  offered  by  Rev.  Herman  Norton, 
the  late  lamented  secretary  of  the  Foreign  Evangelical  Society; 
Zachariah  Lewis,  Esq.,  one  of  the  first  editors  of  the  New  York 
Commercial  Advertiser ;  John  Wheelwright,  and  Rev.  John  Wood- 
bridge,  now  a  patriarch  residing  at  Hadley,  Massachusetts,  who  also 
gave  a  short  address  and  pronounced  the  benediction.  Meanwhile, 
post-bills  and  advertisements  had  announced  the  enterprise ;  and  the 
expense  of  refitting  the  theatre,  amounting  to  $6000,  had  been  met 
by  subscriptions.  May  6th,  the  appointed  Sabbath,  came.  The 
theatre,  on  that  day  consecrated  as  "  Chatham-street  Chapel,"  was 
thronged  by  half-past  ten.  Mr.  Finney  preached  with  great  power 
from  the  text,  "  W^ho  is  on  the  Lord's  side  ?"  The  sacrament  was 
administered  in  the  afternoon,  and  in  the  evening  hundreds  went 
away  unable  to  get  within  the  building.  Mr.  Finney  preached 
from  the  text,  "  I  call  heaven  and  earth  to  record  this  day  against 
you,  that  I  have  set  before  you  life  and  death,  blessing  and  curs- 
ing ;  therefore  choose  life,  that  both  thou  and  thy  seed  may  live." 
An  attempt  was  made  to  disturb  the  meeting  by  noise,  but  the  po- 
lice came  to  the  rescue,  and  the  services  were  most  impressive. 
From  that  time  Mr.  Finney  preached  to  an  audience  of  from  1500 
to  2500,  seventy  successive  nights.  Li  connection  with  this  preach- 
ing, male  and  female  Bible-classes  were  formed ;  prayer-meetings 
held ;  Bibles  and  Tracts  distributed ;  shops,  stores,  and  saloons  vis- 
ted,  and  their  occupants  invited  to  go  to  the  chapel.    The  bar-room 


EEV.    CHARLES    G.    FINNEY.  37 

of  the  theatre  was  changed  into  a  room  for  social  prayer,  and  it  is  a 
striking  fact,  that  the  first  man  who  knelt  there,  with  strong  emotion 
uttered  these  words  of  supplication:  "O  Lord,  forgive  my  sins. 
The  last  time  I  was  here  Thou  knowest  I  was  a  wicked  actor  on  this 
stage.  0  Lord,  have  mercy  on  me."  Mr.  Finney  continued  here 
for  three  years,  till  the  expiration  of  the  lease,  and  then  went  to  the 
Broadway  Tabernacle,  which  had  been  meanwhile  built,  where  he 
preached  till  called  to  the  Presidency  of  Oberlin  College  in  1836. 

Mr.  Finney  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  preachers  of  America. 
With  strong  logical  powers,  and  educated  as  a  lawyer,  he  deals 
much  in  convincing  argument.  The  law  of  God,  in  its  various  rela- 
tions, is  his  favorite  subject,  and  he  deals  largely  in  its  teiTors.  We 
understand  that  latterly  he  preaches  more  the  love  of  God,  and  wins 
as  well  as  alarms  to  repentance.  His  strength  of  mind  is  equalled 
by  that  of  few.  His  emotional  nature  also  is  deep,  but  is  rarely  al- 
lowed expression.  He  ha-s  not  the  grace  nor  the  persuasive  appeal 
of  Mr.  Kirk,  nor  the  vocabulary  and  diction  of  Mr.  Beecher,  but  for 
a  certain  scope  of  preaching  he  is  unequalled — that  of  impressive 
argument,  and  such  presenting  of  the  relations  of  religious  truth  as 
in  its  completeness  and  clearness  works  irresistible  conviction,  and 
brings  skeptic,  infidel,  and  apathist  alike  into  broken-hearted  sub- 
mission to  the  power  of  God.  He  discusses  much  the  moral  gov- 
ernment of  God  as  applied  to  human  accountability.  His  reading 
of  hymns  produces  deep  impression,  particularly  those  of  the  class, 
"  Majestic  sweetness  sits  enthroned,"  which  is  a  favorite  with  him. 
His  sermons  are  long,  usually  an  hour  and  a  quarter.  Occasionally 
his  flights  of  imagination  are  sublime,  and  his  sweep  of  oratory  mag- 
nificent.    He  has  also  dramatic  power,  but  uses  it  little. 

The  fi"uits  of  this  revival  it  is  not  possible  to  compute.  The  num- 
ber of  free  churches  in  1836  amounted  to  six,  over  one  of  which  Dr. 
Lansing  was  the  pastor.  Up  to  February,  1835,  the  three  churches 
fii'st  established  had  admitted  over  fifteen  hundred  members,  and  it 
was  estimated  that  only  a  minority  of  those  who  became  Christians 
in  these  congregations  united  with  those  churches.  A  large  pro- 
portion of  tk  ese  accessions  were  from  the  Sabbath-schools  and  Bible- 
classes.     Of  one  Bible-class  of  young  men,  which  averaged  an  at- 


38  EDWAllD    NOIililS    KIRK. 

tendance  of  forty-five,  in  one  year  twenty-seven  were  hopefully  con- 
verted, twenty-five  became  Sabbath-scliool  teachers,  and  eight  hav4 
since  become  clergymen.  Indeed  many  of  the  present  "  pillars"  ol 
the  up-town  churches  were  hewn  out  of  their  native  rock,  under  thh-. 
free-church  system. 

Dr.  Joel  Parker  has  lately  written  the  following  interesting  nar 
rative  of  one  meeting  of  1832,  published  in  the  X.  Y.  Observer : 

"  The  church  at  the  corner  of  Dey  and  Washington  streets  had 
been  greatly  blessed  for  eighteen  months  previous  to  the  period  re- 
ferred to.  The  religious  interest  during  a  year  and  a  half  had  been 
of  a  very  happy  character.  More  than  once  during  that  period  it 
had  been  very  absorbing  and  general.  A  large  number  of  youth  ot 
both  sexes  had  been  gathered  in  Bible-classes  under  faithful  teachers. 
These  classes  furnished  quite  a  nmnber  of  accessions  to  the  church, 
on  each  monthly  return  of  the  communion  season.  At  the  time  of 
w^hich  w^e  speak,  but  few  came  forward  from  the  world  to  profess 
their  faith  in  Christ.  It  was  felt  that  there  had  been  a  sensible  lull 
in  the  breathings  of  Divine  influence. 

"  Mention  was  made  of  this  at  the  close  of  the  solemnity ;  Chris- 
tians were  exhorted  to  pray ;  and  a  meeting  was  appointed  for  the 
following  evening,  for  the  double  purpose  of  prayer  and  conversation 
with  the  unconverted.  The  designated  place  of  meeting  was  a  large 
boarding-house,  which  had  been  kindly  oflered  for  the  purpose.* 

"  Anxious  myself  for  the  result,  I  was  early  at  the  place.  To  my 
surprise  I  found  the  entry  and  the  stairway  leading  to  the  second 
story  where  the  meeting  w^as  appointed  thronged  with  people. 
Supposing  that  some  cause  unknown  to  myself  hindered  their  pro- 
gress, I  pressed  through  the  crowd  and  found  the  two  rooms  and 
the  hall,  covering  the  entire  second  floor,  filled  with  people.  Find- 
ing that  the  company  could  not  be  seated,  I  commenced  the  services 
by  reading  a  hymn.  The  song  of  praise  was  characterized  by  a  pe- 
cuhar  feeling  indicated  in  the  tones  with  which  it  was  sung.  When 
it  was  concluded,  there  was  an  indescribable  stillness  of  the  compact 

*  Tliis  stood  where  now  is  the  Mcreluints'  Hotel,  Cortlandt-street. 


39 

mass,  which  seemed  to  impress  every  mind  with  a  sense  of  the  Di- 
vine presence. 

"  Prayer  was  offered.  At  its  close  the  same  breathless  silence  was 
again  apparent.  I  made  a  plain  simple  exhortation.  It  consisted 
not  of  anything  like  cogent  argument.  It  was  not  a  stirring  appeal. 
It  was  a  brief  statement  respecting  the  helpless  lost  state  of  sinners, 
and  an  exhibition  of  Christ  as  the  efficient  remedy.  As  their  pastor, 
I  counselled  sinners  to  accept  Christ  as  their  Saviour  then  and  there. 
Another  hymn  of  praise  was  sung,  and  another  prayer  was  offered. 
I  then  requested  the  members  of  the  church  to  retire,  and  invited 
such  as  were  inclined  to  do  so  to  remain  for  conversation  with  the 
pastor  and  the  elders  of  the  church.  Over  forty  remained.  Most 
of  them  were  persons  whom  I  had  not  before  known  as  seriously  in- 
clined. On  conversing  with  them  a-  singular  and  singularly  uniform 
state  of  rehgious  feeling  was  found  to  prevail.  They  seemed  to  be 
all  impressed  with  a  sense  of  their  sinfid  state.  No  cavilling  ap- 
peared. No  excuses  were  made.  No  difficulties  even  were  com- 
plained of.  There  was  a  uniform  admission  of  inexcusable  sinfulness. 
Christ's  atonement  was  readily  admitted  to  be  the  only  ground  of 
hope.  There  seemed  to  be  a  readiness  to  comprehend  it,  and  an 
equal  readiness  to  embrace  it.  In  conversing  with  them  there 
seemed  no  room  for  persuasion.  Can  it  be  that  all  these  persons 
were  converted  to  God  ?  There  was  no  long  law  work,  as  our  old 
divines  were  wont  to  call  it.  It  seemed  too  easy.  It  appeared  as  if 
it  must  have  been  some  strange  sympathy — some  hallucination. 
But  they  came  to  subsequent  meetings,  and  on  mature  deliberation, 
on  the  next  communion,  thirty  of  them  united  with  the  church. 
In  the  "judgment  of  the  session  they  were  as  clear  in  their  views,  as 
strong  in  their  purpose,  as  humble  and  as  devout  and  consistent  as 
those  who  found  their  way  into  the  kingdom  of  God  after  long 
struggles  and  severe  conflicts. 

"They  wore  well.  There  was  every  evidence  that  that  was  a 
happy  and  valuable  accession  to  the  church.  A  sweet  and  gentle 
religious  influence  was  diflfused  over  the  congregation.  The  meet- 
ings for  prayer  were,  for  a  good  while,  more  numerously  attended. 


40  EDWAKD    NORPJS    KIKK. 

Tlie  songs  of  praise  were  more  animated.  The  members  of  the 
church  were  more  zealous  in  their  labors  of  love.  The  fact  that  the 
work  of  conversion  did  not  go  forward  seemed  not  to  indicate  that 
God  had  withdrawn  his  spirit  in  displeasure.  The  mode  of  the 
Spirit's  manifestation  only  was  changed.  It  was  a  shower  of  grace. 
The  effect  was  analogous.  It  was  as  when  a  June  rain  of  an  hour 
makes  the  fields  joyous  long  after  the  cloud  containing  the  blessing 
has  passed  away." 

But  that  time  is  past,  and  its  zealous  colaborers  are  scattered. 
Many  have  gone  to  their  reward  in  heaven.  Most  of  those  who  re- 
main are  silver-haired.  In  1834  Dr.  Parker  went  to  New  Orleans, 
returned  to  New  York  in  1838,  went  to  Philadelphia  in  1842,  and 
came  back  to  New  York  in  1852,  where  he  has  now  a  large  church 
in  Fourth  avenue.  Mr.  Finney  is  in  Oberlin,  Ohio,  and  Mr.  Kii'k  is 
in  Boston.  And  there  has  come  to  be  a  divergence  of  views,  not 
less  wide  perhaps  than  that  of  location.  Some  have  become  "  conser- 
vative," some  semi-conservative,  some  continue  "  radical,"  some  have 
become  "  fanatical ;"  but  all  unite  in  recalling  those  times  of  Chris- 
tian work  and  sacrifice,  and  fellowship  and  prayer,  with  profound 
interest  and  with  falling  teai's,  and  all  look  forward  with  faith  to 
that  time  when  the  fruits  of  that  season  shall  be  "  crowns  of  rejoi- 
cing in  the  presence  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  at  His  coming." 

And  at  this  point  let  us  pay  a  passing  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
another  colaborer  in  the  same  work. 

"  Aunt  Dinah"  was  a  slave  in  Duchess  county,  where  she  pur- 
chased her  freedom.  She  had  become  a  Christian  in  a  Methodist 
revival,  and  being  anxious  to  read  the  Bible,  had  been  taught  the 
alphabet  by  the  little  daughter  of  her  master.  From  this  beginning 
she  became  so  much  of  a  scholar  as  to  have  accumulated  quite  a 
library  of  standard  theological  works,  the  writings  of  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards being  her  favorites.  She  accompanied  Mr.  Kirk  to  Albany, 
and  seemed  at  once  to  identify  herself  with  him  and  his  calling  as  a 
revival  preacher. 

She  not  only  attended  him  in  his  series  of  meetings  at  New  York 
and  other  places,  but  wherever  she  heard  of  any  "  special  interest" 
in  town  or  country,  there  she  went,  if  possible,  without  regard  to 


"aunt   DINAH."  41 

distance  or  season.  She  was  a  woman  of  remarkable  native  vigor 
of  mind,  intuitive  knowledge  of  character,  rare  discrimination  in 
respect  to  preaching,  and  by  a  thorough  study  of  the  Bible  possessed 
an  amount  of  theological  lore  which  often  surpassed  the  skill  of 
doctors  in  divinity.  But  most  of  all  was  she  distinguished  for  her 
humble,  genuine,  and  glowing  piety,  for  her  love  towards  all  God's 
creatures,  and  for  her  absorbing  interest  in  the  redemption  of  sin- 
ners. Her  person  was  not  attractive.  She  was  much  bent,  not  by 
years,  but  by  an  injury  to  her  back,  caused  by  a  blow  from  her 
master ;  her  features  were  strongly  marked ;  her  color  that  of  the 
full-blooded  African,  strikingly  contrasting  with  the  snow-white 
head-dress  she  usually  wore ;  and  her  manner  heartily  affectionate, 
blunt,  earnest,  and  decided.  Her  conversations  on  religious  sub- 
jects, and  she  talked  of  little  else,  were  prized  by  all.  Her  ex- 
positions of  Scripture  were  discriminating,  with  the  peculiar  unc- 
tion which  comes  from  a  living  experience ;  her  personal  appeals 
pungent  and  effective,  as  well  as  pathetic ;  and  her  frequent  talks 
in  female  prayer-meetings.  Sabbath-schools,  and  occasionally  in  re- 
ligious gatherings  of  both  sexes,  were  never  amiss.  She  inspired 
strong  affection  in  those  who  knew  her,  and  her  circle  of  friends 
was  not  only  large,  but  included  some  of  the  prominent  citizens, 
at  whose  houses  she  was  always  welcome.  The  anecdotes  about 
her  are  numberless,  but  our  limits  forbid  their  mention.  For  the 
last  few  years  of  her  life  she  occupied  a  room  in  the  basement  of 
one  of  the  New  York  churches,  making  occasional  visits  to  her  old 
friends.     She  died  March  20th,  1846,  aged  74  years. 

At  this  time  there  was  stopping  at  the  Astor  House  the  brothei 
of  an  English  officer,  who  preferred  the  request  that  Aunt  Dinah 
should  be  buried  in  Greenwood  Cemetery  by  the  side  of  his  bro- 
ther, in  accordance  with  his  dpng  request.  It  seems  this  officer 
was  taken  sick  at  a  New  York  hotel,  and  Aunt  Dinah  happening  to 
hear  of  it,  sought  his  room,  ministered  to  his  wants,  and  began  in 
her  usual  way  to  talk  with  him  about  his  soul-interests.  He  en- 
couraged the  poor  negro's  remarks,  for  they  afforded  him  relief  from 
the  tedium  of  confinement ;  but  as  they  were  continued  and  repeat- 
ed, he  began  to  awake  to  a  higher  interest,  and  finally  became  a 


4:2  EDWAED    NOERIS    KLRK. 

penitent  and  believing  Christian.  His  wLsli  was  complied  with. 
Twenty-six  dollars  were  found  in  her  room,  laid  by  for  her  funeral 
expenses ;  to  this  more  was  added.  A  procession  of  carriages  fol- 
lowed her  remains  to  their  resting-place  in  Greenwood,  and  a  slab 
of  Italian  marble  was  erected  above  it,  which  bears  an  appropriate 
inscription. 

To  return  to  Mr.  Kirk,  at  the  outset  of  his  agency  for  the  Foreign 
Evangelical  Society,  in  1839.  At  this  time  the  United  States  was 
in  a  peculiar  condition.  The  late  commercial  overwhelmings  seemed 
to  have  produced  in  the  public  mind  a  seriousness  deeper  than  mere 
disappointment  or  despair  at  the  loss  of  property.  There  was  an  in- 
terest aroused  in  those  "  treasures  which  moth  and  rust  doth  not 
corrupt,"  unusual  for  its  depth  and  extent.  A  sentiment  pervaded 
the  church  that  Mr.  Kirk  was  the  man  to  meet  the  peculiar  want 
occasioned  by  this  ui;iusual  interest,  and  that  he  should  not  be  en- 
grossed by  one  society,  but  should  for  a  while  be  devoted  to  preach- 
ing the  gospel  wherever  Providence  snould  seem  to  point  out  a 
sphere  of  labor.  The  plan  w^as  proposed  to  him,  and  he  adopted  it, 
with  the  stipulation  that  the  churches  where  he  preached  should 
engage  to  furnish  to  the  society  sufficient  funds  to  meet  the  deficit 
which  would  result  from  the  withdrawal  of  his  labors.  This  pro- 
posal was  agreed  to,  and  the  result  was  most  happy.  x\  large 
amount  of  money  was  collected  for  the  society,  and  the  preaching 
of  Mr.  Kirk  was  eminently  successful.  He  commenced  his  labors  in 
Baltimore,  and  preached  successively  in  Philadelphia,  New  York, 
Boston,  Hartford,  New  Haven,  and  other  places. 

In  Philadelphia,  especially,  the  interest  was  remarkable.  The 
whole  city,  one  might  say,  flocked  to  hear  him.  The  eftect  pro- 
duced was  somewhat  like  that  of  Summerfield's  preaching,  not  so 
great  in  the  way  of  eloquence,  but  greater  in  the  way  of  religious 
impression  and  permanence.  For  Summerfield's  eloquence  was  like 
Jenny  Lind's  singing — unapproachable  and  indescribable :  that 
peculiarly  pathetic,  persuasive,  suppliant  appeal,  by  which  he  in- 
sinuated himself  into  the  very  centre  of  your  heart,  so  that  one 
heard  him,  bathed  in  tears,  losing  all  note  of  time,  fascinated,  en- 
tranced. 


REVIVAL   MOVEMENT.  43 

Those  meetings  are  an  exponent  of  a  noteworthy  religious  move- 
ment in  America — the  revival  movement.  They  are  the  fairest 
representatives  of  revival  meetings.  They  constitute  a  marked  fea- 
ture of  the  American  Church.  The  leading  idea  of  those  who  sus- 
tained them  was  to  arouse  attention  to  religious  concerns  by  special 
religious  meetings,  and  then  by  their  daily  repetition  hold  the  at- 
tention till  it  became  rooted  in  religious  conviction,  and  bore  the 
fruit  of  an  abiding  Christian  character.  They  were  sometimes  con- 
tinued for  weeks,  and  one,  two,  three,  and  even  four  meetings  were 
held  each  day.  Some  were  prayer-meetings ;  some  were  allotted  to 
lay  exhortation ;  some  to  personal  conversation ;  some  to  preaching. 
They  were  held  at  all  hours.  The  rising  sun  looked  in  upon  a  com- 
pany of  suppliants.  The  man  of  business  laid  down  his  employ- 
ment in  its  midst,  and  went  to  the  sanctuary ;  and  at  evening,  espe- 
cially, gathered  men  and  women,  the  old  and  the  young,  either  to 
hear,  or  to  exhort,  or  to  pray,  or  to  scoff.  For  the  time  all  other 
gatherings  were  set  aside.  The  social  party  and  the  literary  lecture 
were  made  secondary.  Even  useful  and  necessary  avocations  were 
more  or  less  neglected.  Eternal  verities  asserted  a  controlling  sway 
over  the  mind.  And  these  meetings  were  continued  week  after 
vreek.  Hence  they  were  called  "  protracted  meetings."  And  they 
did  not  occupy  the  minds  of  a  moiety  only  of  the  community :  they 
were  a  living  presence  among  the  people,  and  a  pressm^e  upon  the 
public  attention.  When  they  did  not  kindle  enthusiasm,  they  at 
least  aroused  opposition.  Few  were  able  to  disregard,  and  fewer  to 
despise.     They  were  either  loved  or  hated. 

It  was  in  such  seasons  that  Mr.  Kirk  was  most  effective.  Here 
all  his  fine  powers  were  brought  into  the  fullest  exercise.  His  ten- 
der sympathies  embraced  the  crowded  audiences;  his  modulated 
tones  stole  into  their  hearts ;  his  passionate  appeals  stirred  the  deep 
fountains  of  emotion ;  his  earnestness  was  electrical ;  his  eloquence 
irresistible.  He  gave  himself  up  to  the  work.  There  is  no  enume- 
ration of  the  nimiber  of  times  he  spoke.  Neither  is  there  any  pos- 
sible reckoning  of  the  results.  But  those  were  times  remembered  by 
many,  and  recalled  as  life  eras. 

We  have  distinguished  Mr.  Kirk  as  the  "  Evangelist  Preacher," 


44:  EDW^UJD    NOERIS    KIRK. 

because  it  was  in  these  revival  meetings  tliat  he  came  most  promi- 
nently before  the  public,  and  because  he  is  in  the  minds  of  most 
•  men  distinctively  associated  with  them.  Moreover,  his  peculiar 
gifts  are  best  manifested  in  the  style  of  mingled  argument,  pathos, 
and  appeal  which  characterize  revival  meetings.  So  strikingly  was 
this  the  case,  that  many  doubted  the  propriety  of  his  establishment 
in  one  place,  regarding  him  as  belonging  to  the  Church  universal, 
and  not  to  be  appropriated  by  one  community.  But  the  calling  of 
an  evangelist,  in  its  very  nature,  is  temporary.  It  cannot  be  con- 
tinued for  a  lifetime.  It  exhausts  without  replenishing.  It  wears 
out  the  body  by  excitement,  and  deteriorates  the  mind  by  excessive 
drafts.  There  must  be  repose  for  the  one,  and  quiet  study  and  medi- 
tation for  the  other.  Hence  we  presume  that  an  opening  to  pastoral 
life  once  more  was  welcomed. 


RESIDENCE    AT   BOSTOX. 

In  1842  he  was  invited  to  establish  a  church  in  Boston  by  clergy- 
men and  inliuential  laymen  of  that  city,  a  public  meeting  being  held 
for  the  purpose.  In  June  of  that  year  he  was  installed  pastor  of  a 
newly-foimed  Congregational  Church,  which  adopted  the  name  of 
the  "  Mount  Vernon  Church."  Immediately  after  his  installation, 
he  spent  four  months  in  Andover,  according  to  a  previous  arrange- 
ment, for  the  purpose  of  resting  from  incessant  labors,  and  making- 
some  direct  preparation  for  the  pastoral  office.  He  preached  fii*st  in 
the  old  South  Chapel,  and  then  in  the  Masonic  Temple,  while  the 
church  edifice  was  building,  which  he  now  occupies,  and  which  was 
opened  for  di\nne  service  on  the  1st  of  January,  1844.  It  will  ac- 
commodate thirteen  hundred  persons,  is  always  well  filled,  and  often 
crowded.  He  accomplishes,  with  the  same  untiring  energy,  a  great 
amount  of  labor.  He  preaches  regularly  twice  on  the  Sabbath,  and 
on  one  evening  of  the  week  conducts  the  weekly  church  prayer- 
meeting,  devotes  one  evening  to  religious  conversation  in  the  chapol, 
instructs  the  children  in  an  unpublished  catechism  prepared  by  him- 
self, and  meets  the  officers  of  the  church  every  Saturday  afternoon, 


SECOND   VISIT   TO   EUKOPE.  45 

wlien  the  notices  to  be  read  from  the  pulpit  are  agreed  upon,  and 
the  plan  of  the  next  week  laid  out. 

There  has  been  a  constant  seriousness  among  his  people  smce  the 
commencement  of  his  labors,  and  conversions  are  continually  occur- 
ring. His  relations  to  Christian  ministers  of  all  denominations  are 
entirely  friendly.  His  own  people  are  unwavering  in  their  devotion 
to  him,  and  manifest  a  noble  generosity. 

In  May,  1846,  he  went  a  second  time  to  Europe,  to  recruit  by  a 
temporary  release  from  his  arduous  labors,  and  to  attend  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Evangelical  Alliance.  The  expenses  of  the  journey  were 
borne  by  one  member  of  his  church.  It  was  a  tribute  of  regard  to 
the  loved  pastor,  only  the  more  grateful  for  being  wholly  unexpect- 
ed. We  have  been  told  that  the  Business  Committee  of  the  church 
voted  to  defray  the  expense,  but  inasmuch  as  this  individual  would 
not  relinquish  what  he  insisted  on  as  a  prior  claim,  the  committee, 
not  to  be  outdone,  voted  the  sum  which  they  designed  to  appro- 
priate to  the  expenses  of  the  journey  as  a  free-will  offering  to  Mr. 
Kirk. 

We  have  occupied  so  much  space  with  the  biographical  part  of 
this  sketch  that  the  critical  must  be  brief.  Moreover,  we  are  little 
inclined  to  discuss  Mr.  Kirk's  oratorical  excellencies,  because,  being 
so  remarkable,  people  are  ready  enough  to  forget  the  solemn  truths 
uttered,  while  talking  about  the  eloquence  of  their  delivery.  This 
is  true  in  the  case  of  all  ministers,  but  especially  of  Mr.  Kirk,  be- 
cause of  his  reputation  as  an  orator.  The  discussion  of  his  rich  and 
sonorous  voice,  symmetrical  person,  finished  delivery,  and  glowing 
style  is  apt  to  create  the  wrong  impression  that  he  has  cultivated 
the  graces  of  oratory  rather  than  the  graces  of  the  Spirit ;  and  that 
his  power  is  due  to  external  accomplishments  rather  than  to  the  in- 
ner fire  of  a  fervent  piety.  The  truth  is,  that  the  pulpit  has  been 
so  associated  with  awkwardness  of  manner  and  affectation  of  tone, 
that  when  a  preacher  possesses  a  graceful  delivery,  we  are  a  little 
startled,  lest  he  is  not  altogether  clerical.  But  those  who  have  often 
heard  Mr.  Kirk  must  be  deeply  impressed  with  the  spirituality,  the 
unction,  and  the  fervency  of  his  ministrations.  Such  outpouring  of 
feeling,  such  pointedness  of  application,  such  yearning  tenderness  of 


46  *  EDWARD    NORKIS    KIRK. 

appeals  as  we  have  heard  from  his  lips !  The  words  ring  in  our 
ears,  so  thrilling  and  so  beautiful,  as  he  poured  forth  entreaties  that 
all  would  love  the  Saviour  who  had  redeemed  them ;  warning  the 
guilty  with  such  a  fearful  yet  pathetic  earnestness ;  and  clothing 
entreaties  and  warnings  with  such  a  glow  of  enthusiasm,  that  it 
would  seem  as  if  the  coldest  heart  must  warm  and  the  hardest  in- 
sensibility give  a  responsive  throb.  Mr.  Kirk  has  been  highly  gifted 
by  nature,  and  these  gifts  he  has  faithfully  cultivated,  that  each 
might  be  brought  into  the  fullest  requisition  for  the  service  of  his 
Master.  His  voice  is  fall,  deep,  mellow,  and  musical.  It  is  a  voice 
that  is  heard  with  equal  distinctness  in  every  part  of  the  house, 
sounds  as  low  and  soft  beneath  the  pulpit  as  at  the  farthest  remove, 
and  steals  into  the  heart  like  the  deep  tones  of  music.  His  manner 
is  difficult  to  be  described,  for  he  has  no  mannerism.  He  is  entirely 
natural,  and  manner  is  artificial.  He  has  attained  the  perfection 
of  Art,  where  Art  becomes  Nature.  Every  movement  is  appro- 
priate. There  is  nothing  discordant,  excessive,  or  outr^  ;  yet  every 
gesture  has  its  character  and  meaning.  He  is  a  polished  speaker, 
but  the  temper  of  the  steel  is  not  weakened  by  the  polish.  A  per- 
fect harmony  exists  between  the  voice,  the  gesture,  the  sentence, 
and  the  thought  that  is  their  life.  His  eloquence  charms  the  hear- 
er. Some  orators  excite  admiration,  others  inspire  wonder,  but  Mr. 
Kirk  wins  the  heart.  This  is  partly  due  to  his  peculiar  style  of 
talking^  rather  than  preaching  to  his  audience.  He  seeks  to  anni- 
hilate the  distance  so  generally  felt  between  the  pulpit  and  the  pew. 
And  it  is  due  partly  to  the  familiar  character  of  his  illustrations. 
They  are  by  no  means  low,  but  are  taken  from  matters  of  every-day 
interest  and  universal  acquaintance.  He  brings  religion  liome  to 
the  hearer,  as  pertaining  to  every-day  life,  not  to  be  laid  aside  care- 
fully with  the  Sunday  suit.  He  urges  the  importance  of  immediate 
decision  with  unusual  power.  He  succeeds  in  making  a  person  see 
himself  as  he  really  is,  and  not  as  he  is  regarded  by  his  neighbors. 
The  hearer  feels  that  his  heart  has  been  scanned,  through  all  dis- 
guises and  all  self-deceptions,  and  yet  he  does  not  preach  against 
vices  so  much  as  against  sin.  He  dwells  much  upon  the  base  m- 
gratitude  of  the  sinner  towards  a  God  of  such  infinite  love  and  com- 


PERSONAL   DKSCRIP'J'ION-.  47 

passion,  and  movingly  presents  the  love  of  God  as  manifested  in 
Jesus  Christ.  He  also  impresses  the  importance  and  the  privilege 
of  prayer,  the  beautifal  communion  between  a  holy  God  and  a  for- 
given sinner.  To  an  unusual  degree,  also,  he  magnifies  the  word  of 
God  and  seeks  to  lead  his  hearers  to  a  more  ardent  attachment  to 
the  glorious  revelation.  He  is  characterized  by  his  estimation  of 
Christianity  as  an  aggressive  system.  He  inspires  his  church  to 
make  sallies  into  the  enemy's  camp,  and  not  be  content  with  de- 
fending the  citadel.  He  would  make  his  a  working  church,  whose 
members  not  only  attend  religious  meetings,  but  also  enlighten  the 
ignorant,  feed  the  hungry,  plead  with  the  hardened,  restore  the  fall- 
en, pray  for  the  enslaved.  Hence  he  has  always  shown  an  unwaver- 
ing zeal  in  behalf  of  the  benevolent  organizations  of  the  day.  He 
preaches  unqualifiedly  man's  apostasy  from  God  and  his  departure 
from  an  original  state  of  rectitude.  He  exhibits  Christ  as  the  only 
Saviour,  and  salvation  by  faith  both  for  the  moral  and  for  the  profane 
—salvation,  full,  free,  inestimable,  and  indispensable. 

In  person  Mr.  Kirk  is  about  six  feet  in  height,  of  finely  devel- 
oped figure,  graceful  movement,  winning  eye,  clear  complexion, 
and  handsome  features.  His  constitution  is  of  the  best,  so  that 
it  has  not  suffered  from  early  dissipation,  nor  from  the  more  se- 
vere tax  of  professional  labors.  His  leading  traits  of  character  are 
—warm  affections,  fine  sensibilities,  full  appreciations,  and  rather 
unusual  frankness  and  simplicity.  His  organization  is  finely  strung 
in  every  particular.  His  musical  attainments  are  good,  and  his 
ear  and  voice  superior.  His  perception  of  nice  discriminations  in 
language  and  appreciation  of  art  are  uncommon.  If  he  had  de- 
voted himself  to  the  study  of  Language,  he  would  have  become, 
we  doubt  not,  eminent.  He  has  not  a  logical  mind,  or  at  any 
rate  he  deals  little  with  argimient  in  the  pulpit.  In  the  earlier  part 
of  his  ministry  his  power  lay  almost  entirely  in  delivery  and  in  fer- 
vent piety.  But  through  all  his  later  years  he  has  been  assiduously 
supplying  the  defects  of  early  neglect  of  study.  Kow,  a  fair  amount 
of  thought  underlies  his  effective  appeals.  Yet  his  calling  is  not  to 
develop  profound  thought,  or  convincing  argument,  or  elaborate  ex- 
position, but  to  arouse  the  emotions  and  kindle  the  affections.     But 


48  EDWARD   NOKRIS    KIRK. 

even  a  casual  observer  of  his  preaching  will  nmrk  a  gradual  change 
within  th-e  last  few  years.  At  the  commencement  of  his  ministry, 
and  for  some  time,  he  spoke  extempore,  for  the  sake  of  directness 
and  vivacity.  But  he  did  not  avoid  the  evils  incident  to  this  style. 
There  were  at  times  a  severity  and  lack  of  intellectual  culture  in 
his  sermons,  which,  to  minds  of  the  best  order,  appeared  objection- 
able. "We  doubt  not  that  Mr.  Kirk  recognized  these  defects,  for 
they  have  been  overcome,  and  improvement  is  always  preceded  by 
a  knowledge  of  deficiency.  Yet  we  sometimes  cannot  but  look 
longingly  for  that  impulsive,  unstudied,  and  impassioned  extempore 
of  earlier  years ;  that  flexibility  of  pulpit  oratory  which  imited  the 
charm  of  personal  conversation  with  the  dignity  and  power  of  ora- 
torical appeal.  In  this  no  one  equals  him,  while  in  written  dis- 
course he  is  surpassed. 

Mr.  Edrk's  life  is  illustrative  of  three  truths : — 1st,  The  energy 
which  a  thorough  change  of  character  infuses  into  life ;  2dly,  That 
self-discipline  and  self-culture  bear  an  immense  part  in  the  usefulness 
of  a  man,  and  that  it  is  never  too  late  to  begin ;  3dly,  The  power 
of  oratory  over  the  mind,  and  the  imperative  duty  of  ministers  to 
cultivate  those  mental  and  physical  endowments  which  make  efiec- 
tive  speakers.  Why  should  there  be  less  eloquence  in  the  Pulpit 
than  at  the  Bar,  or  in  the  Halls  of  Legislation  ? 

A  great  work  is  to  be  done  in  this  department,  and  we  thank 
Heaven  that  such  an  example  as  that  of  Mr.  Kirk  is  presented  to 
the  American  people — an  example  which  may  guide  the  seeker,  en- 
courage the  despairer,  and  stimulate  the  aspirer. 


CHESTER  DEWEY, 

THE  TEACHEK  AND  PEEACHEE. 


"  Behold,  God  exalte th  by  His  power  ;  who  teacheth  like  Him?' 


There  is  doubtless  mucli  selfishness  in  this  world,  much  arro- 
gance, much  base  ambition,  much  pretence ;  and  there  is  much  na- 
tive sensibility,  lost  to  human  sight  or  touch,  either  smothered  by 
self-depreciation,  or  blighted  by  betrayal,  which  is  deaf  to  the  timid 
knockings  of  weakness,  as  well  as  to  the  hoarse  demandings  of  want. 
But  withal  there  is  much  disinterestedness,  much  self-forgetting, 
watchful  tenderness,  sensitive  sympathy,  quiet  self-sacrifice.  There 
are  many  hearts  responsive  to  all  the  cries  of  humanity,  whether 
coming  from  the  chill  of  penury,  or  the  tossings  of  disease,  or  yet 
worse,  from  sterile  ignorance,  or  blighting  vice,  or  unforgiven  sin. 

It  is  for  the  sake  of  evidencing  such  devotion  to  duty  and  human- 
ity, of  setting  forth  the  comforting  and  encouraging  in  life,  as  well 
as  to  present  the  pulpit  orators  of  America,  and  the  religious  charac- 
teristics of  her  history,  that  these  sketches  are  prepared.  We  would 
embody  in  our  biographies  genuine  manhood  in  a  variety  of  its 
manifestations  and  experiences,  and  the  circle  of  illustrations  would 
be  incomplete  did  we  omit  a  portrait  of  the  true  Teacher,  or  rather 
of  a  representative  of  the  large  class  of  American  clergy  who  are 
both  Teachers  and  Preachers. 

To  a  prevailing  sentiment,  that  the  profession  of  teaching  is  infe- 
rior to  the  "three  learned  professions,"  exception  must  be  taken. 
Indeed  we  cannot  acknowledge  it  inferior  to  any,  unless  it  be  to  that 
of  the  Pastor  and  Preacher,  who  is  indeed  the  religious  Teacher. 

4 


60  CHES1T.R    DKWEY. 

We  believe  it  will  one  day  be  so  regarded,  and  the  boasted  titles  and 
affected  claims  of  outward  circumstance  and  factitious  life  will  sink 
in  comparison  to  insignificance.  It  would  be  enougb  to  magnify 
the  profession  in  the  eyes  of  some,  to  show  the  list  of  those  who 
have  belonged  to  it ;  to  cluster  the  names  of  Plato,  Socrates,  Aris- 
totle, Milton,  Johnson,  and  Arnold.  But  others  will  object  to  such 
evidence,  for  the  man  does  not  make  the  profession,  nor  the  profes- 
sion the  man.     There  are  other  grounds  of  decision. 

What  are  the  faculties  or  gifts  demanded  by  the  profession  ?  for 
this  is  the  standard  by  which  to  measure  relative  values  in  man's 
occupations.  WTiy  is  not  the  industrious  and  expert  scavenger 
equal  to  the  industrious  and  expert  mechanic  ?  Simply  because  less 
is  demanded  of  him.  We  must  confess  to  distinctions.  "  There  are 
diversities  of  gifts."  The  high  and  low,  the  patrician  and  the  ple- 
beian are  necessities ;  Nature's  elevations  and  depressions  must  be 
recognized,  and  though  "  God  worketh  all  in  all,"  honor  must  be 
proportioned  to  them. 

Therefore  we  ask,  What  is  demanded  by  the  Teacher's  profession  ? 

It  demands,  first,  intellectual  superiority.  This  includes  not  only 
thorough  knowledge  of  subjects  taught,  but  of  many  others  incident- 
ally related  therewith.  The  notion  is  false  that  any  one  can  be  a 
teacher ;  that  a  smattering  of  knowledge,  with  a  good  text-book  open 
before  one,  is  enough  for  instruction.  Even  the  acquisition  of  rudi- 
ments requires  the  guidance  of  a  proficient.  Work  half  done  is  not 
done  at  all ;  nay  more,  obstacles  are  accumulated  in  the  path  of  fu- 
ture progress  and  success.  The  teacher  must  be  himself  a  truly 
educated  man,  that  is,  his  own  mind  must  be  developed  and  disci- 
phned,  or  he  can  never  lead  on  the  minds  of  his  pupils.  He  must 
have  a  quick  perception  of  mental  workings  and  idiosyncracies,  and 
of  heart  workings  too.  All  minds  cannot  be  dealt  with  ahke,  nor 
each  mind  in  the  same  way  at  all  times.  Even  opposite  treatments 
are  needed,  according  to  states,  conditions,  superiorities. 

Moreover  the  teacher  must  not  only  have  knowledge  and  interest 
in  the  studies,  but  this  interest  is  to  be  kept  fresh  in  spite  of  the 
most  frequent  and  long-continued  repetition.  To  this  must  be  add- 
ed the  power  of  infusing  this  interest  into  the  minds  of  pupils.    This 


THE   TRUE   TEACHER.  51 

is  the  crowning  intellectual  gift  of  the  true  teacher.     It  is  one  of  the 
forms  of  genius. 

But  more  than  intellectual  superiority,  the  profession  demands 
moral  superiority.  The  teacher  must  be  the  true  man,  the  good 
man,  the  noble  man,  that  his  pupils,  by  beholding,  may  reflect  and 
become  the  same.  Though  we  are  not  speaking  of  the  moral  or  re- 
lio-ious  teacher,  yet  the  moral  so  transcends  the  intellectual,  charac- 
ter  so  transcends  talent,  and  the  influence  of  the  one  is  so  much 
more  certain,  powerful,  necessary,  and  immediate  than  of  the  other, 
that  we  think  no  intellectual  advantage  ought  to  be  regarded  as  in 
the  least  balancing  a  moral  disadvantage.  In  fine,  the  teacher  must 
be  able,  in  the  words  of  Kant,  "to  develop  in  each  individual  all  the 
perfection  of  which  he  is  susceptible,"  and  to  compass  that  power 
by  expei-imental  insight  into  the  great  principle  of  upward  progress 
contained  in  the  quotation  which  heads  this  sketch. 

Chester  Dewey  represents  the  true  Teacher.  He  is  learned,  intel- 
lectual, religious.  His  knowledge  of  human  nature  is  discrimina- 
ting. He  appreciates  shades  of  difference  between  different  minds. 
The  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  a  delight,  and  its  communication 
not  only  a  delight  but  a  necessity.  With  some,  knowledge  lies  on 
the  dyspeptic  brains  an  undigested  burden,  but  with  Mr.  Dewey  it 
is  vitality  and  health.  His  interest  in  rudiments  never  tires— his 
faculty  of  interesting  others  never  fails.  His  influence  over  the 
young  is  ennobling :  he  bridges  the  chasm  between  teacher  and  pu- 
pil with  compacted  information,  and  thereupon  pass  back  and  forth 
sympathies  and  affections :  and  the  pathway  of  his  declining  years 
is  strewn  with  the  grateful  tributes  of  the  many  he  has  educated, 
now  rejoicing  in  a  successful  manhood.  To  them  we  refer  as  prompt 
endorsers  of  our  presentation. 

Chester  Dewey  was  born  October  25th,  1Y84,  in  the  town  of 
Sheffield,  Berkshire  county,  Massachusetts.  His  father  was  a  farm- 
er, who  was  prevented  from  obtaining  a  liberal  education  by  the 
troublous  times  of  the  Revolution.  He  was  a  man  of  strong  mind, 
sound  judgment,  sober  integrity,  and,  consequently,  of  commanding 
influence  in  his  town.  In  those  days,  when  lawyers  and  courts  were 
not  as  now,  to  be  found,  like  the  images  of  the  Israelites,  "  on  every 


52  '      CHESTER    DEWEY. 

high  hill,  and  under  every  green  tree,"  he  was  resorted  to  as  the  ar- 
biter in  disputes,  and  the  judge  of  the  place,  and  from  his  decisions 
■an  appeal  was  rarely  taken.  But  respected  as  he  was,  he  always 
suffered  in  his  own  feelings  from  the  lack  of  a  liberal  education. 
He  felt  that  it  was  his  natural  birthright,  that  he  would  have  ap- 
preciated it  and  improved  it.  And  in  his  thoughtful  moods  there 
came  up  before  him  so  many  questions  which  a  liberal  education 
would  have  solved,  so  many  labyrinthine  threads  of  information 
which  it  would  have  enabled  him  to  follow  out  into  the  open  day, 
that  he  was  troubled  by  his  deficiency.  He  felt,  too,  the  lack  of  a 
higher  facility  in  communicating  what  he  did  know.  As  it  was,  he 
possessed  a  singular  clearness  of  expression,  but  he  longed  for  a 
greater  power. 

"With  these  convictions,  he  determined  to  give  to  his  first-bom 
son  that  which  he  so  sorrowingly  wanted.  Holding  to  this  purpose, 
he  exercised  more  wisdom  than  some  parents  manifest,  who  keep 
their  sons  from  the  soil  as  they  would  from  a  contagion,  deeming 
that  head-work  precludes  hand-work ;  that  the  "  college  boy"  would 
be  ruined  by  being  fii-st  the  "  farmer  boy ;"  that  the  hand  which  is  to 
hold  the  pen,  and  turn  the  leaf,  and  dig  Greek  roots,  should  never 
hold  the  plough,  or  turn  the  furrow,  or  dig  garden  roots.  He  began 
by  educating  the  body  of  his  boy  before  the  brain,  and  developing 
muscle  before  mind.  "  Mens  sana  in  corpore  sano^''^  was  his  golden 
principle  of  education.  If  such  were  the  system  of  all  parents,  and 
if  all  sons  appreciated  health,  and  would  ivork  to  get  and  keep  it, 
we  should  hear  less  of  ragged  authors,  dilapidated  teachers,  and 
bronchial  preachers.  He  had,  however,  all  the  advantages  of  school 
instruction  which  the  times  afforded,  and  play  enough  to  keep  his 
spirits  buoyant,  his  cheek  rosy,  and  his  eye  bright.  He  was.  from 
childhood  remarkably  active,  prompt,  and  alert.  It  is  an  incident 
as  illustrative  of  the  maxim,  that  "  the  boy  is  father  to  the  man," 
that  when  an  infant  he  always  rocked  himself  to  sleep.  His  mother 
taught  him  to  put  his  little  hands  on  each  side  of  the  cradle  and  do 
his  own  lullabyiug.  In  consequence  of  this  early  training,  and  of 
an  active  temperament,  he  grew  up  a  stirriug,  independent,  self- 
reliant  youth,  with  a  mind  ever  on  the  look-out  for  information. 


ENTERS    COLLEGE. 


His  cliildhood  was  an  unclouded  one.  He  was  what  one  would 
style  a  suniiT/  boy,  ever  bright,  buoyant,  bounding,  the  light  of  the 
home  circle,  and  a  favorite  with  all.  He  early  showed  quickness  of 
perception,  with  a  "gift"  at  imitation,  so  that  he  afforded  great 
amusement  by  performing  sundry  little  feats,  which  are  taught  to 
bright  children.  Dispatch  in  business  was  also  manifested  at  an 
early  age,  united  to  a  principle  of  order,  which  is  rare  in  young 
people.  Oh !  how  many  trials  and  tears  would  be  spared  the  rising 
geneiation,  if  they  could  learn  to  "hang  up  their  caps,"  and  "shut 
the  door,"  as  readily  as  did  young  Dewey.  He  felt  an  absorbing 
interest  in  whatever  thing  he  undertook,  whether  play,  or  study,  or 
work ;  and  was  thus  impelled  on  by  his  own  zealous  spirit.  Hence, 
as  well  in  the  school-room  as  on  the  cricket-ground  and  in  the 
wrestling-match  he  was  first.  When  thirteen  years  old,  the  whole 
care  of  the  farm  devolved  upon  him,  his  father  being  disabled  by 
protracted  illness.  He  fulfilled  his  task  manfully,  but  it  was  long 
ere  he  recovered  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  that  summer. 

Most  of  the  fitting  for  college  was  accomphshed  in  the  district- 
school  :  three  months,  however,  were  spent  with  Rev.  Mr.  Robbins, 
the  minister  of  Norfolk,  Connecticut,  who  fitted  hundreds  of  young 
men  for  college,  being  accustomed  to  receive  them  into  his  family 
for  that  purpose,  according  to  the  excellent  usage  of  those  days. 

Mr.  Dewey  entered  Williams  College,  Massachusetts,  in  1802, 
being  then  in  his  eighteenth  year.  He  proved  to  be  a  superior 
scholar,  ranking  among  the  first  in  his  class.  While  a  good  math- 
ematician and  classical  scholar,  he  evinced  a  decided  partiality  for 
natural  sciences,  which  has  since  ripened  into  such  distinguished  ex- 
cellence. His  warmth  of  heart,  open  manly  disposition,  and  gallant 
sentiments,  won  the  regard  of  his  classmates.  He  had  no  false 
pride,  no  exclusiveness  of  feeling,  but  that  keen  appreciation  of  the 
good  points  in  his  fellows,  that  wide-embracing  sympathy  for  the 
"great  brotherhood  of  man,"  which  is  ever  welling  up  from  the 
hearts  of  the  right-minded.  In  this  connection  we  refer  to  a  trait  of 
Mr.  Dewey's  character,  developed  at  this  time— generosity  in  com- 
municating knowledge.  He  never  hoards  it  in  the  cofiers  of  the 
brain,  there  t  >  rest  or  rot,  but  puts  it  into  general  circulation.     He 


54  CHESTER    DEWEY. 

talks  out  his  tlioughts,  and  witli  whomsoever  he  is,  the  child  or  the 
man,  the  ignorant  or  the  learned,  he  is  ever  exciting  inquiry,  quick- 
ening thought,  imparting  information,  and  adding  to  his  own  store. 
His  mental  capital  is  productive.  We  commend  his  example  to  the 
educated  men  who  have  a  talent,  hut  hide  it  in  the  napkin  of  their 
selfish  silence ;  who  have  a  light,  but  are  themselves  the  bushel  to 
it.  There  is  a  duty  which  such  men  owe  to  the  community.  They 
have  received  extra  privileges,  and  they  ought  to  bestow  extra  fa- 
vors. They  ought  to  scatter  the  seed  they  have  garnered,  that  it 
may  spring  up  and  bear  fruit  a  hundred-fold.  They  have  no  rio-ht 
to  go  through  the  world  a  locked-up  library  with  the  key  lost.  If 
they  knoAv  any  thing,  let  them  allow  other  people  to  know  it  also. 
They  will  be  none  the  poorer  for  it,  they  will  be  richer  for  it,  richer 
in  their  own  stock,  richer  in  the  consciousness  of  doing  good,  richer 
in  the  gratitude  of  all.  Mr.  Dewey  is  a  man  who  pours  upon  all 
the  stores  of  his  infoniiation.  Hence  his  conversation  is  ever  enter- 
taining and  instructive,  and  his  society  sought.  He  began  life  with 
the  resolve  to  be  lavish  of  his  knowledge,  and  thus  it  was  that  his 
college  vacations  were  regarded  as  gala  days  by  his  family,  for  he 
managed  in  an  attractive  and  easy  way  to  scatter  among  them  all 
the  treasures  he  had  gathered. 

In  the  previous  sketch,  we  have  referred  to  those  remarkable  oc- 
casions, perhaps  not  improperly  termed  "  Kevivals,"  when  the  soul 
seems  to  rouse  itself  from  the  lethargy  of  sense  to  a  living  percep- 
tion of  the  Unseen  and  Spiritual ;  when  great  truths,  long  disregard- 
ed, start  into  living  realities ;  and  when  Eternity,  in  its  eminence, 
absorbs  all  the  interests  of  Time.  Such  a  season  occuiTed  during 
the  thud  term  of  Mr.  Dewey's  senior  year,  and  he  bowed  himself  be- 
neath the  power  of  its  presence.  From  that  day  he  was  actuated  by 
nobler  impulses  than  the  promptings  of  natural  sympathies.  A  pen- 
itence for  past  ingratitude  towards  the  Supreme  Benefactor,  for  neg- 
lect of  infinite  truths,  and  a  holy  love  for  God  filled  his  soul.  Under 
the  impulse  of  these  higher  sentiments  he  consecrated  himself  to  the 
work  of  proclaiming  salvation,  and  of  persuading  men  to  lay  hold  of 
the  new  life.  Immediately  after  his  graduation,  he  was  violently  at- 
tacked with  typhus  fever,  and  at  one  time  his  life  was  despaired  of; 


STOCKBRIDGE.  65 

but  the  constitution  built  upon  his  father's  farm  was  not  found  want- 
ing, and  he  entirely  recovered.  As  soon  as  health  allowed,  he  com- 
menced his  theological  studies  with  Stephen  West,  D.  D.,  of  Stock- 
bridge,  Massachusetts,  a  divine  of  those  days  eminent  for  sound  the- 
ology and  actuating  piety,  and  loved  and  respected  almost  to  adora- 
tion. In  October,  ISO^,  he  was  Hcensed  to  preach  by  the  Berkshire 
Association,  and  during  the  following  winter  taught  a  school  in 
Stockbridge,  and  preached  regularly  in  West  Stockbridge,  a  village 
five  miles  distant.  Stockbridge  has  always  been  distinguished  for 
its  refined  and  literary  society ;  and  by  the  cordiality  with  which  he 
was  received  into  its  choice  circle,  his  love  of  social  intercourse  was 
amply  gratified.  Here,  too,  he  found  his  favorite  among  the  fair 
daughters  of  this  beautiful  village.  She  was  the  pride  and  joy  of 
the  place,  a  girl  whose  presence  was  a  charm  to  the  glad  ones,  a 
balm  of  healing  to  the  sorrowing.  She  had  an  attractive  person,  a 
quick  mind,  gay  humor,  and  a  true  heart.  In  the  spring  of  1808 
he  made  a  pleasant,  leisurely  journey  with  his  sister  to  Canada,  in 
the  sensible,  sociable  manner  of  those  times,  before  steam  had  whirled 
away  the  good  old  practice  of  riding  in  one's  own  conveyance,  thirty 
miles  or  less  a  day,  and  stopping  for  the  night  with  some  hospitable 
cousin  or  long-lost  friend.  We  allude  to  this  journey,  not  because  it 
was  fraught  with  the  stirring  incidents  which  characterized  the  Can- 
ada expedition  of  Sommers,  described  in  another  sketch,  but  because 
it  is  dwelt  upon  by  its  projector,  as  the  only  journey  of  his  life  for 
unmixed  recreation  and  social  enjoyment,  when  work  and  duty  to 
self  or  the  good  of  others  was  not  the  impellmg  and  controlling  mo- 
tive. From  July  to  November  of  the  same  year,  Mr.  Dewey  preached 
in  Tyringham,  a  small  town  in  the  same  county.  Here  his  labors 
yielded  happy  results.  When  he  went  there,  the  church  was  rent 
by  dissension,  and  depressed  by  poverty.  The  greatest  revival  which 
has  ever  blessed  it,  occurred  during  his  ministrations,  and  he  left  it 
prosperous  and  independent,  as  it  has  since  remained. 

In  November  he  was  invited  to  a  tutorship  at  his  Alma  Mater, 
only  two  years  after  his  graduation — an  e\ddence  of  the  esteem  in 
which  he  was  held,  as  this  oflSce  was  a  tutorship  only  in  name,  be- 
ing endowed  with  all  the  responsibilities  of  a  professorship.     He  en- 


66  CilESTEE    DEWEY.    ^ 

tered  upon  his  duties  under  peculiar  and  testing  circumstances. 
During  the  p^e^^ou3  spring  and  summer,  an  effort  had  been  made 
by  the  students  to  relieve  the  institution  of  certain  obnoxious  tutors. 
This  occasioned  some  trouble  in  college,  but  the  diflBculty  seemed  to 
be  amicably  settled  at  Commencement,  and  the  students  returned  at 
the  beginning  of  the  year  ^^^th  the  expressed  intention  of  moving  on 
quietly.  Professor  Olds,  however,  a  man  of  strong  and  independent 
character,  felt  that  the  disturbances  could  only  be  atoned  for  by  a 
written  acknowledgment  on  the  part  of  the  Junior  class,  which  had 
taken  the  lead ;  and  at  his  suggestion,  it  was  agreed  by  the  Faculty, 
that  a  paper  to  that  effect  should  be  drawn  up,  and  each  member 
of  the  class  compelled  to  sign  it.  This  was  done ;  but  unfortunately 
each  member  of  the  class  refused  to  sign  it,  and  all  the  influence  of 
Professor  Olds,  popular  as  he  was,  had  no  power  to  bend  their  re- 
solve. At  this  juncture,  when  a  whole  class  was  arrayed  against  the 
Faculty,  the  President  declared  himself  on  the  side  of  the  students, 
and  the  Professor,  with  all  the  Tutors,  feeling  their  honor  compro- 
mised by  the  course  of  the  President,  resigned  in  a  body,  and  left 
him  sole  oflicer.  Consequently  college  was  adjourned  for  four 
weeks,  at  the  close  of  which,  Messrs.  Dewey,  Nelson,  and  Robbins 
entered  upon  the  vacant  tutorships.  Into  Mr.  Dewey's  hands  was 
consigned  the  refractory  Junior  class,  which  selection  placed  him 
next  in  authority  to  the  President,  and  virtually  threw  upon  him  the 
responsibility  of  the  institution.  He  proved  himself  equal  to  the 
emergency ;  and  at  the  outset  displayed  that  tact  for  government, 
the  power  of  influencing  young  men  so  that  they  shall  govern  them- 
selves, which  has  since  rendered  him  so  successful  as  a  teacher. 
Upon  his  first  meeting  with  the  class  he  frankly  confessed  his  own 
inexperience,  told  them  of  the  evil  reports  prevalent  of  their  insubor- 
dination, and  reminded  them  that  the  only  way  whereby  the  com- 
munity could  be  convinced  that  they  stood  upon  right  ground,  as 
they  professed  to  do,  was  by  a  faithful  and  manly  performance  of 
duty  for  the  future.  The  appeal  was  apt ;  the  students  were  thrown 
on  their  individual  responsibility;  they  proved  thenceforward  ad- 
mirable pupils ;  studies  were  heartily  prosecuted,  and  perfect  order 
maintained.     An  interesting  tribute  was  lately  paid  by  Judge  Kel- 


AVILLIAMS   COLLEGE.  5Y 

logg,  a  member  of  the  Junior  class,  who  said :  "  I  remember,  as  if  it 
were  but  yesterday,  that  first  recitation  and  Mr.  Dewey's  address. 
He  put  us  on  our  honor,  and  after  that  we  wouldn't  for  all  the  world 
have  done  a  rebellious  deed." 

After  remaining  a  Tutor  for  two  years,  Mr.  Dewey  was  endowed 
with  the  title  and  perquisites  of  "  Professor  of  Mathematics  and  Nat- 
ural Philosophy."  He  held  the  situation  until  182Y,  a  period  of  sev- 
enteen years — the  best  years  of  life — from  the  age  of  twenty-six  to 
that  of  forty-three.  These  years  were  devoted  to  the  upbuilding  of 
WiUiams  College.  We  shall  briefly  speak  of  them  as  a  whole. 
The  consignment  of  the  Junior  class  to  Mr.  Dewey,  the  Tutor,  was 
but  an  earnest  of  the  consignment  made  to  Mr.  Dewey,  the  Profes- 
sor. As  in  that  instance,  so  ever  after,  he  was  stationed  at  the  post 
of  hazard  and  responsibility.  When  a  matter  of  importance  and  del- 
icacy was  to  be  managed,  requiring  resolution,  judgment,  and  per- 
sonal influence  to  insure  its  success,  he  was  the  man  to  handle  it ; 
when  any  difficult  point  was  to  be  gained,  he  was  the  one  to  reach 
it ;  when  any  boisterous  breakers  were  to  be  cleared,  he  was  the  one 
to  take  the  helm.  Thus,  in  time,  this  feeble,  struggling,  yet  growing 
institution  learned  to  lay  its  weightiest  burdens  on  him,  and  consign 
to  his  care  its  more  precious  interests.  We  do  not  intend,  by  any 
means,  to  imply  that  he  heard  all  the  important  recitations,  or  made 
out  the  bills,  or  always  disciplined  the  students ;  but  that  in  any 
case  of  doubt,  his  counsel  was  essential ;  in  difficulty,  his  presence 
was  indispensable ;  in  any  diflference  of  sentiment,  his  opinion  was 
ultimate.  Nor  does  this  fact  disparage  the  other  able  oflBcers  of  the 
college.  They  were  equal  to  their  duties,  and  faithful  in  their  per- 
formance. He  did,  also,  much  to  advance  the  standard  of  scholar- 
ship, and  enlarge  the  course  of  study.  In  the  department  of  Natural 
Histoiy  he  was  unwearied  in  his  efforts.  The  departments  of  Chem- 
istry and  Botany  he  established  on  their  present  enlarged  basis,  lay- 
ing the  corner-stone.  For  the  promotion  of  these,  and  of  Geology, 
he  commenced  a  system  of  exchanges  throughout  the  country,  and 
carried  on  a  large  correspondence  with  the  savans,  not  only  of 
America,  but  also  of  England,  France,  Germany,  and  even  Prussia 
and  Norway. 


68  CHESTEK   DEWET. 

In  religious  matters,  also,  as  well  as  in  governmental,  lie  exerted  a 
truly  efficient  influence.  He  had  the  best  good  of  the  students  as  a 
constant  object  of  attainment ;  and  vigilant  watchman  as  he  was,  his 
"  beat"  extended  beyond  the  limits  of  scholarship.  He  strove  to  in- 
spire his  pupils  with  the  purpose  to  be  men,  true  men,  complete, 
Christian  men.  He  succeeded,  too,  in  getting  at  the  students,  in 
reaching  their  inner  life,  appreciating  their  feelings,  prejudices,  sym- 
pathies. He  knew  them  individually.  They,  on  their  part,  loved 
and  respected  him.  They  came  to  him  for  counsel,  guidance,  and 
encouragement.  He  was  the  guide  of  the  inquiring  spirit,  and  the 
consoler  of  the  penitent.  He  prayed  with  the  prayerful  and  rejoiced 
with  the  forgiven. 

As  illustrative  of  the  relation  existing  between  the  teacher  and  the 
taught,  we  will  venture  to  naiTate  an  incident  which  has  come  to 
our  knowledge.  Belonging  to  the  Sophomore  class  of  1824,  was  a 
poor  Irish  boy,  who  was  struggling  up  through  a  liberal  education, 
with  the  purpose  of  becoming  a  minister.  He  was  assisted  in  his 
efforts  by  the  "  Brick  Church"  of  New  York.  He  was  fitted  for  col- 
lege at  an  academy  in  Amherst,  but  did  not,  as  was  expected,  enter 
the  college  there.  In  the  midst  of  his  regular  duties  and  daily 
studies  at  Williams,  there  came  a  letter  from  the  officers  of  the  Brick 
Church,  stating  that,  in  consequence  of  certain  reports  which  had 
come  to  them  prejudicial  to  his  character,  the  assistance  of  the 
church  would  be  withdrawn  from  date.  The  intelligence  came  upon 
the  poor  fellow  like  a  thunderbolt,  so  sudden  and  so  crushing.  No 
opportunity  was  afforded  for  self-defence  or  explanation.  The  letter 
was  decisive  and  final.  In  this  state  he  went  to  Professor  Dewey 
and  told  his  trial — that  his  support  was  taken  from  him,  that  he 
must  leave  college,  relinquish  his  hopes  and  plans  of  doing  good  and 
self-improvement,  and  all  for  an  offence  of  which  he  was  ignorant, 
and  of  which,  whatever  it  might  be,  he  protested  his  innocence. 
Professor  Dewey  had  regarded  this  son  of  Erin's  Isle  with  interest 
He  had  been  inspired  with  confidence  in  him.  His  fellow-students 
respected  and  liked  him.  He  was  a  good  scholar  and  unexception- 
able in  his  deportment.  Under  these  circumstances.  Professor  Dew- 
ey told  him  not  to  leave,  or  trouble  himself  about  the  pajnng  of  bills, 


69 

and  going  to  tlie  President,  prevailed  upon  him  to  consent  to  the 
young  man's  remaining,  on  the  assurance  that  he  himself  would  take 
the  responsibility.  So  the  boy  studied  on,  without  any  particular 
notice  being  taken  of  the  Brick  Church.  At  the  end  of  a  year,  or 
thereabouts,  a  second  letter  came  from  the  oflBcers,  stating  that  the 
charges  of  delinquency  had  turned  out  to  be  false,  renewing  their 
support,  and,  better  than  all,  paying  up  the  arrears.  So  the  young 
man  was  saved.  Professor  Dewey  saved  him.  And  the  Irish  boy 
of  1824  is  now  none  other  than  the  "Kirwan"  of  America,  Dr.  Mur- 
ray of  New  Jersey. 

In  our  limits,  we  can  only  allude  to  a  college  rebeUion  which 
came  off  about  this  time,  and  to  Professor  Dewey's  admirable  man- 
agement and  removal  of  the  difficulties.  It  arose  from  the  rustica- 
tion of  one  of  the  students  by  the  President.  His  fellows  demanded 
his  restoration.  It  was  refused,  and  the  students  rebelled.  It  was 
the  wildest  rebellion  ever  known  there.  Professors  were  locked  in, 
one  narrowly  escaped  with  his  life,  bells  were  rung,  horns  were 
blown  night  after  night,  and  college  exercises  suspended  for  several 
days.  Had  it  not  been  for  Professor  Dewey's  mediation  and  mod- 
erate counsels,  most  of  the  students  would  have  been  expelled; 
among  them  one  who  is  now  the  president  of  a  college,  another  who 
is  a  professor,  another  who  is  one  of  the  fii'st  lawyers  of  New  York, 
another  who  is  a  useful  minister,  and  so  on.  It  was  in  such  ways, 
by  his  calm  judgment  and  his  influence  with  the  students,  that  he 
accomplished  good. 

Several  revivals  occurred  during  his  professorship.  In  these  he 
exerted  a  controlHng  influence,  as  the  religious  guide,  the  earnest 
preacher,  and  the  sympathizing  fiiend.  One  unusually  interesting 
occasion  deserves  mention.  The  first  manifest  intimation  of  any 
special  earnestness  of  feeling  was  made  by  the  call  of  a  student^ 
whose  name  was  Jenkins,  on  Professor  Dewey,  with  a  request  from 
the  Junior  class  that  a  prayer-meeting  might  take  the  place  of  the 
morning  recitation,  as  the  great  seriousness  among  the  students  pre- 
vented the  usual  study.  Jenkins  had  been  an  infidel,  but  his  man 
uer  now  precluded  all  suspicion  of  hypocrisy.  He  was  so  deeply 
moved  as  almost  to  forbid  utterance.      The  request  was  readily 


60  CHESTER   DEWEY. 

granted,  and  Professor  Dewey  met  with  the  class  for  prayer.  It  was 
a  sublime  meeting.  There  came  together  then  a  band  of  students 
transformed  by  some  unseen  power.  Levity,  recklessness  were  all 
gone — earnestness,  honestness  filled  their  souls — the  depths  of  feeling 
stirred — tears  flowing — prayers  ascending.  And  this  feeling  con- 
tinued, and  the  earnestness  prevailed,  and  prayers  were  answered. 
Between  forty  and  fifty  enrolled  themselves  under  the  banner  of  the 
redeemed.  Jenkins  became  a  Congregational  minister,  was  settled 
in  Massachusetts,  and  afterwards  in  Maine.  At  the  close  of  the 
term,  instead  of  the  usual  Junior  exhibition,  Professor  Dewey  preached 
a  sermon,  in  accordance  with  the  unanimous  request  of  the  students, 
which  they  published.  It  is  beautiful  to  recur  to  such  experiences 
as  these,  to  look  back  upon  a  pathway  studded  vnth  fresh  green 
spots  of  happiness  and  righteousness,  started  into  life  by  one's  own 
watering  and  nursing.  There  is  a  story  of  a  German  merchant,  so 
wealthy  that  he  paved  his  courtyard  with  silver  dollars  ;  but  here  is 
the  pathway  of  a  life  paved  with  good  deeds,  leading  up  to  that  city 
whose  streets  are  "  pure  gold,  like  unto  clear  glass." 

In  1827,  Professor  Dewey  sent  in  a  resignation  of  his  Professor- 
ship. And  why,  if  so  useful  and  influential,  did  he  resign  ?  This  is 
a  question  diflicult  to  answer  in  such  a  brief  biography.  Suffice  it 
to  say,  that  he  was  strongly  urged  to  leave.  A  high-school  for  boys 
had  been  established  at  Pittsfield,  on  a  large  scale.  Academical  ed- 
ucation at  that  time  was  inferior.  It  needed  to  be  elevated.  To  this 
end  "  The  Gymnasium,"  at  Pittsfield,  was  established.  It  ofiered 
advantages  far  superior  to  those  of  most  of  the  schools.  Only  one 
other  institution  of  the  kind  was  in  existence,  located  at  Northamp- 
ton. Two  were  afterwards  organized,  at  Amherst  and  New  Haven. 
Strong  representations  were  made  to  Professor  Dewey  of  the  im- 
portance of  such  an  undertaking,  and  the  desirableness  of  his  co- 
operation. It  was  set  forth  as  a  wider  field  of  usefulness,  and  a 
more  reponsible  post,  and  it  was  urged  that  the  cause  of  education 
needed  him  at  that  post.  These  arguments  were  aimed  at  his  vul 
nerable  point.  He  yielded ;  and,  greatly  to  the  regret,  as  well  as 
surprise,  of  the  trustees,  sent  in  his  resignation,  and  immediately 
removed  to  Pittsfield.     There  may  have  been  some  minor  reasons 


EOCHESTER    UNIVERSITY.  61 

which  induced  this  change,  but  so  far  as  we  can  learn,  they  were 
not  connected  with  his  relations  to  "  Williams." 

For  a  number  of  years  "  The  Gymnasium"  greatly  i:»rospered,  and 
outlived  the  other  institutions  of  the  kind,  but,  at  last  affected,  like  its 
fellows,  by  the  improvement  in  small  select  schools,  which  drew  oflf 
scholars  from  the  high-schools,  it  became  so  reduced  in  size  that  Pro- 
fessor Dewey  deemed  it  best  to  remove  to  Rochester,  in  the  State  of 
New  York,  and  take  charge  of  the  "  Rochester  Collegiate  Institute." 
This  change  was  made  in  1836,  and  was  doubtless  for  the  best. 
Here  he  remained  at  the  head  of  a  school  which  received  from  two 
hundred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred  and  fifty  difierent  scholars  in  a 
year,  until  1850. 

He  was  then  elected  Professor  of  Chemistry  and  Natural  Philoso- 
phy in  the  University  of  Rochester.  This  college  resulted  from  the 
failure  of  the  Baptists  to  remove  to  Rochester  the  Madison  Uni- 
versity. 

This  denomination  manifested  an  unsurpassed  zeal  in  the  cause  of 
liberal  education,  by  contributing,  within  the  space  of  a  few  months, 
the  sum  of  $150,000  for  the  endowment  of  the  new  university,  which 
amount  will  probably  be  doubled  by  the  end  of  this  year.  The  con- 
tributions were  in  sums  of  all  values,  and  from  all  classes  of  people. 
The  universal  enthusiasm  in  the  enterprise  reminds  of  the  early  days 
of  New  England,  when  Harvard  was  founded  by  the  gifts  of  well-nigh 
every  Puritan  home.  As  the  Presbyterians  had  failed  to  endow  a 
college  in  Rochester,  to  which  enterprise  Professor  Dewey  had  given 
his  best  thoughts  and  efibrts,  the  Baptist  Board  of  Trustees  solicited 
his  co-operation  in  the  new  institution,  in  accordance  with  a  liberahty 
of  administration,  characterizing  the  institution,  which  is  likely  to  re- 
sult in  enhsting  the  sympathies  and  support  of  all  denominations  in 
Western  New  York.  Recognizing  the  claims  of  this  wise  policy, 
from  which  there  is  no  departure  in  the  five  years  of  its  existence, 
during  which  it  has  grown  to  be  a  large  and  thoroughly  appointed 
college,  he  accepted  the  professorship,  and  has  since  given  his  con- 
stant efforts  to  advance  the  institution,  sustaining  relations  to  his 
associates  of  rare  confidence  and  regard,  and,  as  ever,  w^inning  the  re- 
spect and  affection  of  all  the  students. 


62  CHESTER   DEWEY. 

Professor  Dewey  has  done  much  for  the  cause  of  education  in 
Western  New  York.  lie  did  not  take  leave  of  her  interests  on  leav- 
ing Williams  College.  Indeed,  it  was  in  her  cause  that  he  left  there ; 
and  he  has  ever  continued  faithful  to  her,  watchful  of  her  wants,  and 
enthusiastic  in  her  behalf,  originating  good  for  her,  and  guiding 
plans  of  beneficence  to  a  successful  consummation.  She  was  his 
early  love,  and  he  has  ever  been  her  lo\nng  protector  "  for  better  or 
for  worse,  for  richer  or  for  poorer."  And  he  has  shown  this  devo- 
tion, not  only  in  making  his  own  school  a  worthy  model,  but  also  in 
efibrts  to  elevate  the  character  of  school  instruction  throughout  the 
State,  and  especially  in  labors  for  the  advancement  of  the  Public 
Schools.  He  was  active  in  the  formation  of  the  "  Teacher's  Insti- 
tute," of  which  he  has  been  the  president,  and  in  the  annual  conven- 
tions of  this  society  he  bears  an  important  part. 

Professor  Dewey  has  written  much  on  scientific  subjects.  He  has 
been  a  correspondent  of  Professor  Silliman's  "  American  Journal  of 
Science  and  Arts"  since  its  establishment  in  1814,  writing  pnnci- 
pally  on  Caricography.  In  this  department  of  natural  history  he 
has  taken  the  lead  in  this  country.  We  have  only  space  to  refer  to 
one  interesting  article  in  this  Journal,  which  shows  the  fallacy  of  the 
well-known  and  hitherto  unquestioned  experiment  of  the  distinguished 
Dr.  Murray,  of  Edinburgh,  employed  to  prove  that  water  transmits 
heat  from  particle  to  particle,  without  necessary  motion  among  the 
globules.  In  this  demonstration  Professor  Silliman  expressed  gTeat 
gratification,  but  could  not  refrain  from  coupling  with  this  his  regret 
that  he  should  have  shown  his  friend.  Dr.  Murray,  to  be  guilty  of 
such  a  blunder.  In  1829  he  wrote  a  scientific  description  of  the 
plants  of  Berkshire  county,  Mass.,  which  was  engrafted  in  a  "  History 
of  Berkshire"  by  Dr.  Field.  In  accordance  with  an  appointment  by 
the  State  Government,  he  wrote  in  1841  a  "History  of  the  HJerba- 
ceous  Plants  of  Massachusetts."  He  has  also  published  minor  essays 
on  scientific  subjects.  He  is  remarkable  for  constant  use  of  the  pen 
in  study,  an  admirable  practice,  induced  by  his  Mlier's  pertinent  in- 
junction when  he  took  him  to  college:  "  J/y  son,  learn  to  put  your 
thoughts  on  paperT  It  is  well  to  state  also  that  he  is  a  member  of 
the  "  American  Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,"  established  at  Bos- 


BODILY   VIGOR.  63 

ton;  of  the  "Lyceum  of  Natural  History,"  at  New  York;  of  the 
"  Society  of  Natural  Sciences,"  at  Philadelphia ;  and  of  the  "  Amer- 
ican Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science."  In  1837  he  re- 
ceived the  title  of  D.D.  from  Union  College,  and  in  1850  that  of 
LL.  D.  from  Williams  College. 

He  has  ever  cherished  his  youthful  fancy  for  the  so-called  Natural 
Sciences.  They  always  .were  natural  to  him.  And  now  he  may 
often  be  seen,  with  bag  on  shoulder,  hammer  in  hand,  and  very  likely 
a  troop  of  pupils  behind  him  (for  it's  very  diflScult  for  boys  to  "  get 
ahead"  of  him,  even  in  the  matter  of  recreation),  clambering  over  the 
cliffs,  scaling  the  mountain-spurs,  and  roaming  the  fields,  in  search 
of  layers,  and  strata,  and  "  croppings  out,"  and  "  primary  rocks,"  and 
"  secondaries,"  and  flowers,  and  "  specimens"  in  general.  In  this  way 
has  the  bodily  vigor,  gained  upon  his  father's  farm,  been  retained 
through  all  the  wearing  duties  of  a  long  literary  life ;  and  now,  when 
past  the  allotted  Hmit  of  "  threescore  years  and  ten,"  his  form  is  as 
erect,  his  step  well-nigh  as  elastic,  his  eye  as  bright,  and  his  laugh  as 
hearty,  as  when  on  the  cricket-ground  he  "  tallied  up"  higher  than 
all  his  fellows.  In  this  particular,  as  well  as  in  his  free  outpourings 
of  knowledge,  we  would  commend  his  example.  If  the  clergy  would 
tinge  their  pale  cheeks  with  the  morning  sun,  let  the  fresh  breeze 
brown  them,  and  the  mountain  scramble  tire  them ;  if  they  would 
search  out  Nature  in  her  chosen  places,  and  study  God  in  that  book 
of  Revelation  whose  leaves  are  the  fields,  and  carolling  birds  the  com- 
mentators; if  they  would  occasionally  find  "books  in  the  running 
brooks,  and  sermons  in  stones,"  then  we  should  hear  fewer  complaints 
of  feehng  "Mondayish." 

Until  lately  Professor  Dewey  has  spent  four  months  of  the  year  at 
the  East,  in  lecturing  on  botany  and  chemistry,  at  the  medical  col- 
leges of  Pittsfield  in  Massachusetts,  and  of  Woodstock  in  Vermont. 
This  work  absorbed  all  his  vacations.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  deliv- 
ering two  lectures,  of  an  hour  each,  during  every  day  of  the  whole 
course,  besides  the  arduous  preparatory  work  in  the  laboratory.  The 
professorship  at  the  Pittsfield  Institution  began  with  1822,  and  the 
one  in  Vermont  in  1841. 

In  addition  to  all  these  labors,  he  preaches,  on  an  average,  one  ser- 


64:  CHESTER    DEWEY. 

inon  on  every  Sabbath.  He  is  not  confined  to  the  limits  of  one 
denomination,  but  supplies  vacant  pulpits  wherever  needed,  and  is  a 
favorite  with  all.  In  the  pulpit,  we  should  hardly  style  him  eloquent 
or  brilliant.  lie  is  instructive,  interesting,  and  earnest.  He  always 
develops  some  good  thought,  expounds  the  Scriptures  felicitously,  and 
has  variety  in  his  reasoning.  "We  would  regard,  however,  the  ap- 
peals he  makes  to  the  responsive  feelings  of  man's  nature,  to  one's 
gratitude,  desire  for  immortality,  and  innate  perception  of  the  Good, 
the  Wise,  and  the  Pure,  together  with  the  manifestation  of  sincerity 
and  deep  feehng,  as  the  characteristics  of  his  preaching.  In  prayer 
he  has  a  fulness,  beauty,  variety,  and  richness  of  expression  which  is 
unsurpassed. 

He  has  lately  borne  an  important  part  in  the  estabhshment  of  a 
new  Congregational  church,  called  the  "  Plymouth  Church  of  Roch- 
ester," of  which  the  elegant  edifice,  costing  $60,000,  was  consecrated 
in  August  of  1855,  and  to  which  no  allusion  should  be  made  without 
mention  of  the  name  of  A.  Champion,  Esq.,  the  generous  originator 
and  main  supporter  of  the  enterprise. 

Professor  Dewey  has  a  well-built,  symmetrical  form,  is  nearly  six 
feet  in  height,  of  full  habit  without  corpulency,  and  with  a  face 
beaming  with  kindly  expression.  He  dispatches  business  without 
slighting  it ;  is  generous  without  prodigality ;  self-forgetting  without 
recklessness  ;  enthusiastic  without  a  hobby ;  sociable  without  loqua- 
ciousness ;  inquiring  without  inquisitiveness  ;  holding  opinions  with- 
out being  opinionated ;  learned  without  pedantry ;  starting  questions 
without  engendering  skepticism ;  decided  without  dogmatism ;  and, 
finally,  has  a  noble  head  without  belief  in  phrenology.  He  has  been 
twice  married:  in  1805  to  Sarah  Dewey,  of  Stockbridge,  Massachu- 
setts, who  died  in  1823  ;  and  in  1825  to  OH  via  H.  Pomeroy,  of  Pitts- 
field.     He  has  had  fifteen  children,  six  of  whom  are  living. 

The  fundamental  trait  of  his  character  is  beneficence.  He  ra- 
diates happiness  upon  all  within  his  sphere,  be  they  high  or  low, 
ignorant  or  learned.  Of  this  ever-actuating  principle  we  need  no 
higher  proof  than  the  fact  of  his  ha\nng  been  a  teacher  of  youth  for 
forty-seven  years,  having  delivered  about  four  thousand  lectures,  and 
preached  not  far  from  three  thousand  sermons — the  first  two  depart- 


BEAUTY    OF    MANHOOD.  65 

ments  liaving  been  filled  for  a  bare  livelihood ;  the  last  for  nothing. 
After  all,  these  constitute  the  smaller  part.  It  is  the  minor  charities, 
that  cannot  be  filed  and  numbered ;  the  daily,  hourly  overflowing  of 
kindly  feeling  and  appreciative  sjrmpathies ;  the  gentle  words,  the 
generous  advice,  which  constitute  the  warp  of  his  benevolence. 

As  we  look  at  such  a  life,  w^e  muse  on  the  much  there  is  of  beau- 
ty and  of  good  to  assuage  the  weariness  of  life's  journey ;  thought 
is  good,  aftections  are  good,  health  is  a  living  fountain  of  happiness. 
How  refreshing  too  is  Nature,  with  her  "  voice  and  eloquence  of 
beauty."  The  blue  sky  from  its  deep  bosom  sends  deep  joy  into 
the  heart,  and  the  bright  sun  lights  up  gladness  within,  and  then 
the  music  of  the  birds  and  the  rustling  of  the  leaves,  the  gentle 
hum  of  insects  and  all  the  forms  of  life  stir  a  gladness,  which  sends 
the  blood  thrilling  through  the  veins,  and  the  voice  utters  itself  in 
gushing  tones  of  thankfulness  to  the  Giver  of  every  good.  And 
then  the  merry  laugh  of  children  greets  the  ear,  and  harmony  of 
happy  voices  carolling  their  early  loves.  We  see  youth  feasting  at 
the  loaded  board  of  social  joys,  and  old  age  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
youth,  peacefully  and  hopefully  threading  the  descending  path,  which 
shall  change  at  death  to  an  ascending  flight ;  we  see  hope  light  up 
the  eyes  of  all,  of 

"  Youth  in  hfe's  green  spring,  and  he  who  goes 
In  the  full  strength  of  years,  matron  and  maid. 
And  the  sweet  babe,  and  the  gray-headed  man  ;" 

and  we  see  goodness  laying  hold  of  that  higher,  holier  hope,  within 
whose  folds  is  wrapped  a  bliss  unutterable.     Yes,  it  is  refreshing, 

"  To  go  abroad  rejoicing  in  the  joy 
Of  beautiful  and  well-created  things  ; 
To  love  the  rill  of  waters  ;  and  the  sheen 
Of  silver  fountains  leaping  to  the  sea ; 
To  thrill  with  the  rich  melody  of  birds 
Living  their  life  of  music  ;  to  be  glad 
In  the  gay  sunshine,  reverent  in  the  storm  ; 
To  see  a  beauty  in  the  stirring  leaf, 
And  find  calm  thoughts  beneath  the  whispering  tree  ; 
To  see,  and  hear,  and  breathe  the  evidence 
Of  God's  deep  wisdom  in  the  natural  world  ; 
5 


6B  CHKSTEK    DKAVEY. 

To  gaze  on  woman's  beauty,  as  a  star 
Whose  purity  and  distance  make  it  fair  ; 
And  from  the  spell  oF  music  to  awake 
And  feel  that  it  has  purified  the  heart." 

But  pleasanter  tlian  all  to  look  upon,  is  Manhood  steadfastly  stand- 
ing in  tlie  allotted  place,  performing  tlie  work  wliicli  Providence 
has  appointed,  undismayed  by  its  severity,  unseduced  by  its  sur- 
rounding pleasures ;  in  singleness  of  heart  following  the  path  that 
opens;  valiantly,  effectively  doing,  because  it  is  his  duty  to  do, 
whether  others,  controlled  by  interest,  do  or  leave  undone ;  and,  in 
addition,  striving  to  shed  the  warmth  of  sympathy  and  the  light  of 
information  on  all  the  waysiders  and  companions  of  life's  journey — 
dispensing  charities,  encouraging  goodness,  exciting  inquiry,  radia- 
ting happiness  through  all  the  onward  progress.  Nature  is  beauti- 
ful, Thought  is  beautiful.  Childhood  is  beautiful,  Woman  is  beau- 
tiful ;  but  Manhood,  strong,  steadfast,  single-hearted,  sympathizing, 
is  more  beautiful  still. 

Such  a  character  we  have  presented,  not  one  of  surpassing  genius 
like  a  Milton  or  a  Bonaparte,  nor  one  of  surpassing  talent  like  a 
Goethe  or  a  Washington ;  but  yet  how  superior,  and  how  easy  (in 
one  sense)  of  imitation ! 

But  how  came  he  by  this  character  ?  Nature,  doubtless,  was 
generous  to  him,  but  he  had  a  childhood  like  all  "  born  of  woman," 
and  that  childhood  was  one  of  impressions  and  of  moulding.  And 
it  was  his  mother  who  impressed  and  moulded  it.  It  was  she  who 
guided  him,  and  inspired  him,  and  prayed  for  hun.  She  taught 
him  to  do  what  he  ought,  promptly  and  thoroughly ;  to  bear  bur- 
dens cheerfully ;  to  be  watchful  of  others'  wants,  careless  of  his 
own ;  to  keep  life's  great  work  before  him,  and  thus  be  unmoved 
by  trifles ;  to  hold  Heaven  in  view,  and  thus  be  manful  under  the 
work  of  life.  She  was  self-sacrificing  and  self-forgetting,  and  he 
grew  up  like  her ;  she  loved  God  and  all  his  creatures,  and  he  came 
to  love  with  the  same  holy  love ;  she  joyed  with  the  joyful,  and 
sorrowed  with  the  sorrowful,  and  his  heart,  too,  opened  in  s}Tnpa- 
thy  with  all.  And  now,  as  that  godly  mother  draweth  nigh  to  the 
grave,  with  a  heart  as  warm,  a  conversation  as  intelligent,  a  hand 


DR.    BAIED    ON    AMERICAN    EDUCATION.  67 

as  free,  a  sympathy  as  glowing,  a  benevolence  as  wide-embracing, 
as  when  she  nurtured  her  sunny  boy — with  a  life  full  of  interest 
behind  her — such  a  son  present  with  her,  and  a  Home  of  redeeming 
love  before  her — look  on,  ye  Mothers,  and  answer,  Is  there  not  a 
treasure  ye  also  can  win?     Is  there  not  a  duty  ye  should  meet?* 


GENERAL   VIEW    OF    AMERICAN    EDUCATION. 

As  an  appropriate  conclusion,  we  present  a  succinct  statement  of 
Education  in  the  United  States,  prepared  by  Dr.  Baird. 

"According  to  the  census  of  1850,  the  number  of  public  schools 
(that  is,  of  schools  sustained  or  aided  by  the  government)  was 
80,978;  the  number  of  teachers  was  91,966  ;  of  pupils,  3,354,011 ; 
and  the  amount  paid  for  tuition  was  $9,529,542,  of  which  |4,653,096 
were  derived  from  taxation,  $2,552,402  from  public  funds,  $182,594 
from  endowments,  and  $2,141,450  were  paid  by  the  pupils. 

The  number  of  academies  and  private  schools  was  6089 ;  of  pu- 
pils attending  them,  263,096;  of  teachers,  12,230;  and  the  cost  of 
tuition  was  $4,225,433,  of  which  sum  $288,855  were  derived  from 
endowments,  $14,202  from  taxation,  $115,729  from  public  funds, 
and  $4,225,433  from  other  sources— in  other  words,  were  paid  by 
the  pupils. 

The  entire  number  of  pupils  in  the  schools,  public  and  private, 
in  1850,  was,  therefore,  3,617,107,  as  returned  by  the  teachers  of 
the  schools  to  the  marshals  who  took  the  census ;  but  as  returned 
by  the  parents,  it  was  4,089,507  ;  the  former  giving,  it  is  probable, 
the  number  that  attended  with  a  good  degree  of  regularity,  whilst 
the  latter  included  all  that  were  sent  for  any  period,  however  short. 

The  entire  cost  of  tuition,  including  public  and  private  schools, 
as  well  as  the  academies,  was  that  year  $14,173,756. 

There  were  44  theological  seminaries,  127  professors,  1351  stu 
dents,  and  198,888  volumes  in  their  libraries. 


*  Since  the  above  was  written,  this  Mother  in  Israel  has  gone  to  her  rest,  at 
le  affe  of  ninety-two. 


the  age  of  ninety-two, 


bb  CHESTER    DEWEY. 

There  were  36  medical  schools,  247  professors,  494Y  students. 

There  were  16  law  schools,  35  professors,  532  students. 

The  entire  number  of  what  are  commonly  called  colleges  was,  in 
1850,  215,  and  the  number  of  students  was  18,733;  963,716  vol- 
umes in  their  libraries. 

It  is  believed  that  there  cannot  be  less  than  35,000  Sunday- 
Bchools,  with  at  least  2,500,000  pupils  in  them.  These  schools 
have  generally  interesting  libraries  attached  to  them.  Not  a  few 
persons,  especially  among  the  adult  pupils,  receive  all  the  education 
they  ever  get,  at  the  Sunday-school. 

The  public  funds  and  endowments  for  the  support  of  schools  and 
academies  in  the  United  States,  exceed  $50,000,000.  Up  to  Janu- 
ary 1st,  1854,  Congress  had  aj-tpropriated  to  14  Western  and  South- 
western States  (including  Florida),  and  the  Territories  of  Minnesota, 
Oregon,  and  New  Mexico,  no  less  than  48,909,535  acres  of  land  for 
schools,  and  4,060,704  acres  for  colleges  and  universities. 

Within  the  last  twenty-five  years,  many  of  the  large  cities  have 
done  much  to  found  admirable  public  schools.  In  this  good  work 
Boston  stands  at  the  head ;  but  Philadelphia,  New  York,  Cincin- 
nati, Baltimore,  New  Orleans,  Louisville,  and  many  others,  havo 
also  done  well. 

According  to  the  census  of  1850,  th-e  "White  population  was 
19,558,088,  and  the  Free  people  of  color,  434,495 — making  to- 
gether a  total  of  almost  20,000,000.  Of  this  number  there  were 
1,053,420  persons  over  twenty  years  who  could  not  read — namely, 
767,784  natives,  195,114  foreigners,  and  90,522  free  colored. 

Including  the  entire  population,  bond  as  well  as  free,  the  number 
of  pupils  in  the  schools,  of  all  descriptions,  was  in  the  ratio  of  1  to 
5-C. 

Of  what  we  call  Public  Libraries  in  the  United  States,  there 
were,  in  1850,  more  than  1200,  containing  1,446,015  volumes. 
There  were  213  college  libraries,  containing  942,321  volumes.  If 
we  add  those  of  the  common  schools,  of  Sunday-schools,  and  of 
churches,  the  whole  number  of  volimaes  could  not  have  been  less 
than  four  millions  and  a  half.  Several  of  the  public  libraries  are 
large  and  well-selected.     That  of  Harvard  College  has  more  than 


DR.    BAIIID    OX    AMERICAN    EDUCATION.  69 

85,000  volumes ;  tlie  Astor  Library  (at  New  York)  lias  nearly,  if  not 
quite,  as  many ;  the  Philadelphia  Library  has  more  than  60,000 
volumes.     The  library  of  Congress  has  at  least  as  many. 

The  American  Education  Society,  and  its  branches,  aided  last  year 
010  young  men  who  are  preparing  for  the  ministry,  and  the  Board 
of  Education  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  aided  364 — in  all  9Y4 — 
belonging,  with  few  exceptions,  to  the  Congregational  and  Presby- 
terian churches  alone.  The  Baptists,  the  Episcopalians,  the  Luther- 
ans, the  Reformed  Dutch,  the  Cumberland  Presbyterians,  and  other 
evangelical  churches,  also  take  great  and  increasing  interest  in  the 
subject  of  properly  educating  their  young  men  for  the  sacred  minis- 
try. "We  should  not  go  too  far  if  we  were  to  say  that  it  is  probable 
that  nearly,  if  not  quite,  2000  pious  young  men  in  the  United 
States  are  at  this  moment  receiving  assistance  from  some  society  or 
association,  in  their  efforts  to  prepare  themselves,  as  far  as  human 
training  can  go,  to  preach  the  Gospel ;  and  this  at  an  expense  of 
8250,000  at  the  least.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  say  that  great 
numbers  of  young  men  receive  no  such  assistance,  because  they  do 
not  need  it. 

It  may  be  proper  to  state  here,  that  in  addition  to  what  is  given  to 
educate  young  men  for  the  ministry,  large  sums  of  money  are  raised 
every  year  to  found,  or  better  endow,  grammar-schools  (or  acade- 
mies, as  they  are  often  called  with  us),  colleges,  and  theological  sem- 
inaries, and  this  by  nearly  every  Protestant  branch  of  the  Church. 
There  are  no  less  than  6  theological  seminaries,  20  colleges,  and  60 
academies,  in  possession,  and  under  the  direct  control,  of  one  branch 
(the  Old-School)  of  the  Presbyterian  Church.  The  Methodists  have 
24  colleges.  The  Baptists  have  10  theological  schools  and  faculties, 
and  25  colleges.  And  all  the  other  denominations  have  each  one 
or  more  colleges.  These  colleges  are  not  sectarian,  but  decidedly 
religious.  The  Bible  is  read  and  studied — sometimes  the  catechism, 
but  not  generally.  They  are  open  to  young  men  of  every  creed,  and 
it  is  a  rare  thing  to  hear  of  proselytism  in  favor  of  any  particular 
church,  though  proselytism  in  favor  of  the  Gospel  and  all  its  bless- 
ings is  earnestly  pursued. 

There  is  n  »  subject  in  which  a  gi'eater  interest  is  taken  in  the 


70  CHES'i'EK    DEWEY. 

United  States,  than  that  of  education.  Not  only  is  much  doing  for 
both  primaiy  and  superior  education,  but  also  for  intermediate 
schools.  Besides  those  just  referred  to,  an  immense  number  of  fe- 
male academies  have  risen  up,  and  many  for  boys.  And  lately,  a 
movement  has  commenced  in  relation  to  establishing  what  may  be 
called  "  People's  Colleges^  These  are  large  schools,  in  which  young 
men  and  young  women — sons  and  daughters  of  farmers,  mechanics, 
tradespeople,  and  others,  who  have  received  a  common  education  in 
the  primary  schools,  may,  in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two,  or  two  or 
three  winters,  be  far  better  instructed  in  the  ordinary  branches  of 
education,  and  be  taught  the  principles  of  the  science  which  their 
future  avocations  may  demand.  Geography,  history,  grammar,  some 
branches  of  mathematics  and  natural  philosophy,  the  elements  of 
chemistry,  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  the  art  of  writing 
and  speaking  with  propriety,  etc. — these  are  the  subjects  of  study ; 
sometimes  one  or  two  modern  languages,  but  seldom  Greek  or  Latin. 
This  is  a  very  recent  movement.  There  are  in  the  State  of  New 
York  at  least  10  such  colleges,  some  of  them  attended  by  500,  600, 
and  even  800  students.  One  of  them  had  last  year  1200  students, 
young  people  of  both  sexes,  who  lived  in  separate  boarding-houses, 
occupied  different  parts  of  the  same  lecture-room,  and  listened  to  the 
same  instructions.  Under  a  strong  moral  and  religious  influence, 
these  young  people  are  taught  to  have  confidence  in  themselves,  and 
to  respect  each  other.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  experiment 
thus  far  works  well.  They  are  not  children,  but  young  men  and 
women,  influenced  by  the  strongest  desires  to  receive  a  better  educa- 
tion than  can  be  found  in  the  ordinary  schools.  They  have  but  a 
few  months,  or  one  or  two  years  at  most,  to  spare,  and  that  with  the 
greatest  economy ;  and  they  expect  to  return  to  the  labors  of  an  in- 
dustrial hfe.  There  are  few  thinofs  in  America  more  interestinor  than 
this  movement.  It  reminds  one  somewhat  of  the  scholastic  institu- 
tions of  the  Middle  Ages." 


■^aved  -by  J  C 


/>rl^   tO( 


ROBERT   BAIRD, 

THE  INTEKNATIONAL  PEEACHER. 


"  And  hatli  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men,  that  they  should  seek  the 
Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him  and  find  him." 


The  circumstances  of  Dr.  Baird's  life  are  peculiar.  Their  tendency 
has  ever  been  to  press  him  into  notoriety,  without  any  design  on  his 
part.  He  commenced  his  professional  labors  as  the  general  agent  of 
the  American  Sunday-School  Union.  The  duties  of  this  office 
brought  him  into  close  connection  with  Christians  and  philanthro- 
pists of  all  denominations,  throughout  the  country.  He  resigned  this 
agency  to  become  the  delegate  to  Europe  of  the  "  French  Associa- 
tion." He  was  thus  led  to  travel  extensively  on  the  Continent,  to 
consult  with  kings,  and  join  hands  with  the  great  and  the  good  of 
the  Old  "World.  This  experience  eminently  fitted  him  for  the  ser\dce 
of  the  Foreign  Evangehcal  Society,  in  the  employ  of  which  he  has 
crossed  the  ocean  fourteen  times,  spent  eight  years  in  Europe,  \dsited 
Syria,  threaded  the  United  States,  and  travelled  not  less  than 
250,000  miles,  or  ten  times  the  circuit  of  the  globe.  The  knowledge 
of  this  country  thus  acquired,  fitted  him  to  be  the  accurate  expounder 
of  American  institutions  abroad ;  while  his  thorough  acquaintance 
with  European  politics,  customs,  and  men,  presented  him  to  inquiring 
Americans  as  the  reliable  and  interesting  lecturer  on  the  Old  World. 
Thus  has  he  been  carrying  on  a  system  of  intellectual  exchanges,  a 
legitimate  commerce  of  information,  on  the  principle  of  Supply  and 
Demand.  He  has  done  more  than  any  other  man  to  enhghten  Eu- 
rope in  regard  to  the  religious  movements  and  characteristics  of  this 


72  EOBEKT    BAIRD. 

country,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  enhst  the  sympathies  and  assist 
ance  of  the  American  church  in  efibrts  to  reinv-igorate,  with  a  living 
Christianity,  the  religious  systems  of  the  Old  World,  enervated  by 
errors,  or  prostrated  under  the  weight  of  manifold  ceremonies.  It  is 
gratifying  to  know  the  experience  of  such  a  man,  with  such  an  inter- 
national life ;  to  scan  his  early  training,  contrast  the  doings  of  matu- 
rer  years,  and  glance  at  the  unfolding  of  those  traits  which  have 
proved  the  means  of  so  much  practical  enlightenment. 

Eev.  Robert  Baird,  D.D.,  was  born  on  the  6th  of  October,  ITQS, 
near  Brownsville,  Fayette  county,  in  Western  Pennsylvania.  His 
father  was  a  farmer.  He  was  of  Scottish  descent ;  his  ancestors 
having  been  numbered  among  the  old,  unbending,  persecuted  Scotch 
Covenanters,  and  his  grandfather  having  come  to  this  country.  His 
maternal  ancestors  were  English  and  Welch.  The  family  was  unu- 
sually large ;  Robert  being  one  of  thirteen.  Eight  of  these  reached 
maturity,  most  of  whom  are  at  this  time  residing  not  far  from  the 
old  homestead,  as  worthy  substantial  farmers,  or  frugal  farmers' 
wives.  Robert  was  a  farmer's  boy.  His  early  days  were  spent  like 
those  of  all  farmers'  boys.  He  ploughed  and  hoed,  and  "  did  the 
chores ;"  and  during  the  winter  months  trudged  to  the  \dllage  school, 
working  as  faithfully  at  geography  and  arithmetic,  as  in  summer 
on  furrow  and  sod.  And  is  it  not  a  fact  worthy  of  attention,  that 
such  a  large  proportion  of  our  great  men  were  reared  on  Soildom  ? 
A  natural  connection  exists  between  such  a  training  and  future  use- 
fulness. The  life  inures  to  toil,  the  influences  are  not  debasing,  the 
circumstances  promote  thrift,  the  associations  are  with  Nature  in  her 
purity,  and  not  with  man  in  his  selfishness.  We  will  find  that  many 
of  those  who  are  now  the  working-men  of  the  age — the  efiective 
philanthropists,  the  devoted  patriots,  the  guiding  statesmen,  have  had 
their  early  training  in  connection  with  a  farm. 

Robert  Baird  manifested  at  the  outset  of  life  an  imusual  fond- 
ness for  reading.  Books  were  not  then  as  common  as  stones. 
Moreover,  Western  Pennsylvania  has  never  been  distinguished  foi 
over-stocked  magazines  of  literary  treasures.  They  had  in  those 
good  old  days  the  "  Family  Bible,"  the  "  Shorter  Catechism,"  and 
the  "  Spelling-Book,"  and  these  were  nearly  all.     The  boy  Robert, 


HIS   MOTHER.  Y3 

however,  was  peculiarly  favored.     He  stumbled  upon  an  edition  of 
Morse's  Geography,  in  two  large  octavo  volumes,  published  in  1*791, 
and  these  he  read  through  and  through.    The  knowledge  thence  ob- 
tained by  the  farmer's  boy,  we  doubt  not,  has  oftentimes  proved  in 
dispensable  to  the  Em-opean  traveller. 

He  also  evinced,  early  in  life,  a  remarkable  memory.  He  gar- 
nered up  the  fruits  of  his  reading.  When  he  was  about  fourteen,  he 
chanced  to  meet  with  a  mock-sermon,  written  in  German,  and  com- 
mitted it  to  memory.  This  he  was  often  called  upon  to  repeat  for 
the  amusement  of  friends,  until  finally  he  became  the  lion  of  all  the 
"  apple-bees"  and  "  corn-huskings"  in  the  region  roundabout.  The 
recital  used  to  please  these  old  Scotchmen.  Indeed,  the  world  is 
probably  indebted  to  this  Dutch  sermon  for  the  good  Dr.  Baird  has 
accomplished,  as  a  philanthropist  and  a  scholar.  Not  that  the  ser- 
mon itself  had  much  of  good,  but  it  happened  that  the  popular  reci- 
tals of  young  Robert  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  village  pastor.  He 
sent  for  the  boy,  and  set  a  worthy  example  to  his  parishioners  by 
listening  attentively  to  the  whole  sermon,  and  then  putting  into  in- 
stant practice  the  truth  it  presented.  That  truth  was,  that  the  boy- 
preacher  was  blessed  w^ith  an  excellent  memoiy  and  a  good  mind, 
and  that  he  must  be  sent  to  college.  The  parents  had  not  dreamed 
of  such  a  destiny  for  their  boy,  but  the  good  man  revealed  to  them 
what  ought  to  be  and  must  be.  They  had  always  listened  reverently 
to  the  teachings  of  their  pastor,  and  so  it  was  decided  that  Robert 
should  "  have  an  education."  We  bless  the  good  pastor  for  his  in- 
fluence, and  the  parents  for  yielding  to  it. 

But  now  a  great  difficulty  arose.  How  was  the  boy  to  be  sup- 
ported? There  were  no  "placers"  on  the  farm,  and  thirteen 
mouths  were  a  goodly  number  to  be  filled.  Ah !  these  mothers ! 
What  noble  beings  they  are !  Robert  was  blessed  with  one  who  be  • 
longed  to  that  believing  class,  to  whom  "  all  things  are  possible  " 
Oh,  she  would  attend  to  the  boy's  support,  she  said.  She  would 
weave  the  cloth  and  make  his  clothes ;  she  would  sell  butter,  too,  at 
the  market,  and  the  butter-money  would  buy  his  books  and  pay  his 
board-bill.  The  thing  could  easily  be  done :  and  it  was  done.  That 
mother  supported  her  son  through  all  his  academical  and  collegiate 


74  ROBERT    BAIRD. 

course,  by  tlie  proceeds  of  her  churn.  And  she  is  not  the  only 
mother  who  has  done  the  same  thing.  There  are  other  good  and 
great  men,  the  cream  of  our  nation,  who  have  been  churned  through 
college.  But  shall  we  leave  the  matter,  w  ith  all  the  credit  posted  on 
the  mother's  side  ?  No,  she  must  share  it  with  her  son.  We  feel 
bound  to  repeat  the  report  current,  that  his  expenses,  during  his  reg- 
ular course  of  education,  were  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  per 
year.  What  think  you  of  that,  students  of  Cambiidge  and  of  Yale  ! 
But,  after  all,  these  educational  plans  were  well-nigh  frustrated, 
in  consequence  of  the  very  devotion  that  seemed  to  insure  their  suc- 
cess. In  his  sixteenth  year,  Robert  was  sent  to  a  Latin  school  in 
Uniontown,  some  nine  miles  distant.  He  had  never  been  from 
home  before,  and  had  never  mingled  with  rough,  rude  boys.  So, 
when  he  joined  the  school,  it  w^is  all  new,  and  strange,  and  trying 
to  him.  Moreover,  he  came  in  a  homespun  garb,  and  with  a  home- 
ly air.  He  was  just  the  raw  material  out  of  which  the  older, 
shrewder  boys  could  manufacture  sport.  And  they  went  to  work 
as  if  they  had  a  high  protective  tariff  to  insure  them.  It  is  no 
wonder  that  the  farmer's  boy,  fresh  from  all  the  attentions  of  his 
devoted  mother,  became  insupportably  "  homesick."  He  could  not 
endure  such  a  life,  and  in  two  months  he  deserted.  After  remain- 
ing a  while  his  spirits  revived,  and  he  was  persuaded  to  return. 
But,  in  the  mean  time,  his  tormentors  had  enlarged  operations,  and 
were  all  ready  for  a  "  smashing  business."  The  poor  fellow  felt  that 
he  could  not  endure  it,  but  he  knew  that  a  mother's  heart  was  bent 
on  the  education  of  her  son.  He  saw  that  a  discontinuance  of  his 
studies  would  deeply  gi-ieve  her.  She  wrote  little  to  influence  his 
decision,  but  he  read  her  thoughts.  It  was  harder  to  endure  the 
silent  reproach  of  a  mother's  disappointment  than  the  abuse  of  a 
crowd  of  tp-ant  boys.  The  resolution  w\as  made  to  "  endure  unto 
the  end."  For  one  long  session  he  continued  on  without  a  visit  to 
his  home.  In  that  time  he  had  conquered  himself,  and  his  fellows 
too.  They  had  yielded  to  his  mental  superiority,  as,  gradually 
dawning  upon  tliom,  it  mounted  above  the  clouds  that  obscured  its 
rising,  and  with  the  year  closed  also  his  first  trial.  The  remaining 
two  years  were  among  the  happiest  of  his  life.    He  had  risen  to  the 


ENTEKS   COLLEGE.  75 

head  of  the  school  He  was  acknowledged  to  be  without  an  equal. 
His  old  persecutors  sought  his  assistance  in  their  lessons,  and  he  re- 
payed  their  treatment  by  "  heaping  coals  of  fire  on  their  heads." 

In  the  summer  of  1816,  Mr.  Baird  entered  Washington  College, 
situated  at  Washington,  the  shire  town  of  the  county  of  the  same 
name  in  Pennsylvania,  connecting  himself  with  the  Sophomore  class 
during  its  last  term.  Here  he  pursued  his  studies  with  even  in- 
creased assiduity.  His  teacher  at  the  Uniontown  Academy,  Dr. 
Dunlap,  was  an  excellent  man,  but  much  advanced  in  years.  Time 
had  treated  him  roughly,  and  some  of  his  mischievous  pupils  fol- 
lowed the  example,  paying  little  respect  to  the  old  man.  With  the 
dimness  of  ao^e,  the  nice  distinctions  of  classical  literature  also  failed 
to  be  perceived.  His  government  was  feeble  and  his  teachings  su- 
pei-ficial.  Hence,  when  Mr.  Baird  came  to  college,  he  found  that 
his  classical  knowledge  was  somewhat  inaccurate  and  vague.  But 
he  did  not,  therefore,  "  take  college  life  easy,"  and  charge  all  defi- 
ciencies to  his  old  teacher.  These  only  proved  a  stimulus  to  in- 
creased exertion.  In  his  junior  year  he  went  back  to  the  beginning 
of  his  classical  course,  again  took  in  hand  the  Latin  and  Greek 
grammar,  and  before  the  year  had  closed,  numbered  with  the  best. 
In  the  practice  of  composition,  also,  he  was  wholly  inexperienced 
when  he  entered  college.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  not  written  a 
private  letter.  But  he  went  vigorously  to  work.  He  wrote  and 
destroyed,  and  wrote  again,  toiling  on  so  perseveringly,  that  before 
graduation  he  held  an  enviable  reputation,  even  as  a  writer.  As 
there  was  a  precise  time  in  his  boyhood,  when  he  resolved  that  he 
would  bravely  endure  the  persecution  at  school,  for  his  mother's 
sake,  so  now  there  was  a  time  when  he  resolved  not  to  continue  a 
crude  writer,  for  his  own  sake.  It  was  a  disparaging  remark  by  an 
officer  of  college  that  gave  birth  to  this  resolution,  and  when  once 
made  it  must  be  maintained.  Thus  was  the  progress  in  education 
accomplished  by  steady  advances,  through  faithful  labor. 

Soon  after  he  entered  college  he  was  invited  to  take  charge  of  a 
class  in  the  Sabbath-school.  It  was  a  class  of  negro  boys,  who 
could  not  read.  His  friendly  feelings  were  moved  towards  those 
ignorant  outcasts,  and  he  consented.     This  seems  a  slight  incident? 


76 


EGBERT   BAIRD. 


but  it  proved  the  turning  point  in  his  life.  He  had  been  religiously 
educated,  and  was  correct  in  his  habits,  yet  at  this  time  he  did  not 
esteem  himself  a  Christian.  But  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, to  his  Sabbath  class,  induced  reflection.  He  felt  the  wants 
of  the  religious  nature.  He  listened  to  the  voice  of  conscience. 
Those  wants  became  more  pressing,  convictions  of  duty  deepened, 
until  he  yielded  to  their  force,  and  opened  his  soul  for  the  indwell- 
ing of  the  Spirit. 

Most  of  the  senior  year  was  spent  at  Jefferson  College.  A  se- 
rious dissatisfaction,  with  the  President  of  Washington  College,  had 
arisen  among  the  students.  Fifty  went  off  in  a  body.  Mr.  Baird 
was  one  of  twenty  who  entered  Jefferson.  While  there,  his  health 
failed  under  unremitting  study,  and  he  spent  some  months  at  home. 

He  was  graduated  with  the  reputation  of  being  among  the  first 
scholars  of  his  class.  As  no  "  honors"  were  awarded,  his  precise 
standing  cannot  be  ascertained,  but  since,  Jefferson  College  has  be- 
stowed her  highest  honor  upon  him,  by  inviting  him  to  her  Presi- 
dential Chair.  This  pressing  invitation  he  saw  fit  to  decline.  He 
had  become  identified  with  the  Foreign  Evangelical  Society,  and 
her  interests  were  dearer  than  the  honors  and  emoluments  of  a 
Presidency,  though  wreathed  with  delightful  associations,  and  made 
peculiarly  desirable  by  the  near  residence  of  many  friends. 

After  his  graduation,  Mr.  Baird  was  thrown  upon  his  own  re- 
sources for  support,  and  plans  for  the  future  were  left  to  his  own 
decision,  though  he  had  not  reached  his  twentieth  year.  His  father 
gave  him  a  patrimony  of  a  horse  and  saddle,  mounted  on  which, 
with  all  his  worldly  goods  ensconced  in  a  small  portmanteau,  he 
started  forth.  The  first  stage  in  life's  journey  was,  however,  soon 
brought  to  an  end  by  his  arrival  at  the  town  of  Bellefont,  Centre 
county,  Pennsylvania,  beautifully  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Sus- 
quehanna. Here  he  remained  one  year  as  the  teacher  of  a  select 
school  of  twenty  young  men,  most  of  whom  were  older  than  him- 
self. During  this  year  he  taught,  literally,  ever?/  thing  that  he  ha<.l 
previously  studied  at  school  and  college,  from  simple  Addition  up  to 
Moral  and  Intellectual  Philosophy,  and  devoted  not  less  than  six- 
hours  of  each  day  to  private  study,  reviewing  every  text-book  that 


AS   TEACHEK. 


77 


he  had  studied  in  college.  This  training  clinched  the  knowledge 
which  is  proverbially  so  evanescent.  Besides  this,  he  found  time 
for  a  good  amount  of  social  intercourse,  which  he  greatly  enjoyed. 
Although  so  youthful,  he  was  treated  with  the  utmost  respect  and 
regard.  His  persevering,  earnest  habits,  and  his  elevated  character 
demanded  these  as  their  rightful  tribute.  Besides  this,  he  followed 
in  the  true,  independent  path  of  Christian  duty.  Christianity  was 
a  living  principle  within  him,  and  he  could  not  but  act  the  Chris- 
tian. This  course  was  pursued,  not  so  much  for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ing well,  setting  a  good  example,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  expressed, 
"  honoring  one's  profession,"  as  because  it  was  right.  With  the  liv- 
ing, actuating  principle  within,  he  could  not  do  otherwise.  Thus, 
although  he  was  the  only  young  man  in  the  village  who  professed 
Christianity,  he  always  had  devotional  exercises  in  his  school,  and 
presented,  wherever  he  was,  an  unequivocal,  undisguised  Christian 
example.  He  w^as  governed  by  the  higher  law  of  conscience,  and 
by  no  inferior  motive  of  expediency.  Hence  he  gained  the  respect 
of  those  who  would  not  yield  to  the  claims  of  Christianity.  He  was 
sincere,  conscientious,  and  withal,  high-minded,  sensible,  and  socia- 
ble. Who  would  not  respect  such  a  character?  The  most  de- 
praved reviler,  and  the  most  bitter  skeptic,  cannot  so  firmly  grasp 
their  regard,  that  it  will  not  ascend  as  incense  towards  the  well- 
balanced  character  and  the  man  in  earnest. 

During  this  year,  also,  he  began  the  course  of  writing  for  the 
press,  which  has  gone  on  increasing  to  this  day.  The  village  news- 
paper received  his  contributions.  These  were  of  a  serious  and  in- 
structive character,  though  written  in  a  lively  style.  They  were 
evidently  prompted  by  the  desire  of  effecting  good,  and  treated  of 
prevailing  vices  unsparingly.  The  editor  was  a  professed  infidel, 
but  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Baird  was  an  unfailing  passport  to  his 
paper. 

From  Bellefont  he  went  directly  to  Princeton  Theological  Sem- 
inary— where  he  pursued  his  studies  for  three  years. 

But  how  does  the  matter  of  self-support  progress,  since  the  mo- 
ther's churn  and  loom  have  ceased  their  contributions  ?  This  is  a 
subject  of  interest.     He  started  in  life,  we  mentioned,  with  a  horse 


78  ROBERT    BAIRD. 

and  knapsack.  His  Rosinante  lie  sold  on  reaching  Bellefont,  and 
from  this  sale,  with  the  proceeds  of  his  school,  he  paid  his  expenses 
of  the  year  and  left  $200  in  the  bank.  This  sum  furnished  him 
with  clothes  and  books  during  the  Princeton  course.  For  the  first 
two  years  he  was  the  private  tutor  of  a  few  families  in  the  place, 
and  dm-ing  the  last  year  was  tutor  in  the  college.  James  W.  Alex- 
ander was  his  private  pupil  at  that  time.  His  brother.  Professor 
Addison  Alexander,  was  also  a  scholar  of  Mr.  Baird's  subsequently. 

During  his  connection  with  the  college,  Mr.  Baird  gained  great 
influence  with  the  students.  It  was  not  in  his  nature  to  be  impera- 
tive, but  still  he  controlled.  He  was  decided  but  not  domineering, 
earnest  but  self-possessed,  making  due  allowance  for  his  pupils  with- 
out compromising  his  own  authority ;  respecting  their  sentiments 
without  losing  respect  for  his  own.  He  was  himself  a  young  man, 
and  he  sympathized  with  young  men.  He  acquainted  himself  with 
their  views,  and  listened  to  their  reasonings  in  matters  of  diflerence. 
In  this  respect  he  strikingly  resembled  Professor  Dewey,  whose  ex- 
cellent management  has  been  described.  These  men  have  been 
equally  successful  as  instructors — and  the  same  principle  of  govern- 
ment was  adopted  by  both — a  principle  which  inculcates  sympathy 
with  the  pupil,  without  the  loss  of  respect ;  the  maintenance  of  law, 
without  the  exercise  of  t}Tanny;  the  appeal  to  reason  before  the 
rod,  and  to  conscience  rather  than  emulation.  It  is  the  system  of 
government  which  leads  the  young  to  govern  themselves. 

The  year  was  full  of  interesting  experiences,  and  some  really  thril- 
ling adventures  were  encountered.  The  attempted  blowing  up  of 
the  college  buildings  with  gunpowder,  which  the  students  then  at 
Princeton  will  never  forget,  occurred  during  that  year.  A  young 
man,  connected  with  one  of  the  first  families  of  the  town,  was  de- 
tected in  the  act.  It  was  an  outrageous  plot,  but  no  one  seemed 
ready  to  brave  the  personal  danger  and  loss  of  influence  which  would 
attend  the  prosecution  of  the  young  reprobate,  till  Mr.  Baird  promptly 
stood  in  the  breach.  He  had  the  young  man  arrested,  and  though 
his  life  was  notoriously  in  danger,  he  cheerfully  encountered  the 
trial. 

This  circumstance  induces  us  to  speak  of  the  somewhat  peculiar 


IXFLUKNCE    AT    COLLEGE.  79 

temperament  of  Mr.  Baird.  He  is  possessed  of  delicate  sensibilities, 
so  that  he  may  easily  become  confused,  and  be  deprived  of  perfect 
self-possession  in  emergencies  of  trifling  moment,  but  when  real  exi- 
gencies occur,  he  is  calm  and  reliable. 

Mr.  Baird  was  also  the  means  of  quelling  a  serious  rebellion  by  his 
individual  influence.  Some  misunderstanding  had  arisen  between 
the  faculty  and  the  students,  and  for  three  days  not  one  came  to  re- 
citation except  Mr,  Baird's  own  class.  Uproarious  college  meetings 
were  constantly  in  session,  and  the  spirit  of  "76  waxed  fiercer  and 
fiercer.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  when  matters  seemed  des- 
perate, Mr.  Baird  inquired  of  one  of  his  class  if  the  students  would  not 
candidly  discuss  the  whole  matter  with  him,  and  strive  to  come  to  an 
understanding.  The  proposition  was  readily  accepted.  The  students 
were  then  in  session,  and  a  committee  was  appointed  to  request  Tutor 
Baird  to  come  and  address  them.  As  he  entered  the  hall  the  pre- 
siding officer  ofiered  him  the  chair,  but  he  declined  it,  for  the  reason 
that  he  had  come  to  talk  over  matters,  not  to  preside.  Thereupon 
he  asked  them  plainly  to  tell  the  cause  of  their  trouble.  It  was 
stated,  the  matter  was  canvassed,  and  before  the  meeting  closed  the 
whole  difficulty  was  amicably  settled,  and  the  students  returned  to 
duty. 

Much  sorrow  was  expressed  when  Mr.  Baird  left  at  the  close  of  the 
year.  Students  came,  and,  with  undisguised  emotion,  thanked  him 
for  his  kindness  to  them,  and  his  interest  in  them.  It  was  a  good 
year  of  Mr.  Baird's  life,  one  that  must  rise  in  refreshing  beauty  before 
the  eye  of  retrospection. 

After  the  completion  of  his  theological  studies,  in  the  autumn  of 
1822,  Mr.  Baird  took  charge  of  an  academy  in  Princeton,  and  held 
the  situation  for  five  and  a  half  years.  His  diffidence  was,  in  his 
own  opinion,  a  sufficient  obstacle  to  his  preaching.  He,  however, 
overcame  the  difficulty  so  far  as  to  occupy  occasionally  the  neighbor- 
ing pulpits.  He  might  have  continued  teaching — of  which  he  was 
very  fond — during  his  life-time,  had  it  not  been  for  the  entreaties  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Gibson.  This  lamented  servant  of  God  had  come  to  Prince- 
ton to  die.  He  was  a  young  man  of  uncommon  talents,  and  a 
speaker  of  impassioned  eloquence,  but  his  body  was  not  sufficient  for 


80  ROBERT    BAIRD. 

his  great  soul.  When  he  had  no  longer  strength  to  preach,  he  came 
to  Princeton,  that  his  last  days  might  be  spent  in  the  place  hal- 
lowed by  the  associations  that  cluster  about  a  college  life.  Mr.  Baird 
was  much  with  him  in  his  last  sickness ;  and  as  he  lay  upon  his 
couch,  he  would  unplore  him  to  preach — preach  the  Gospel,  with 
almost  the  energy  and  solemnity  of  inspiration.  The  counsel  of  the 
dying  man  was  not  forgotten. 

We  have  now  followed  the  life  of  Mr.  Baird  to  the  time  when  he 
entered  wholly  upon  his  professional  duties.  Mr.  Baird's  experience 
as  an  agent,  in  behalf  of  the  religious  societies  of  the  American 
church,  coDomenced  in  the  year  1827.  Having  become  deeply  in- 
terested in  the  Nassau  Hall  Bible  Society,  while  in  the  Seminary, 
he  proposed  to  the  members  a  plan  for  supplpng  every  destitute 
family  in  the  State  of  New  Jersey  with  a  copy  of  the  Bible  within 
one  year.  The  plan  was  adopted,  though  with  strong  opposition,  as 
the  scheme  appeared  impracticable  to  many.  Mr.  Baird  was  chair- 
man of  the  committee  appointed  to  carry  it  into  execution.  In  six 
weeks  the  work  was  done,  and  10,000  Bibles  w^ere  distributed. 
During  this  campaign  Mr.  Baird  travelled  throughout  the  State. 
His  ability  in  the  work  of  benevolence  was  then  tried,  and  his  char- 
acter established. 

In  the  winter  of  182 7-28,  he  was  appointed  by  the  American  Bi- 
ble Society  as  their  agent  to  Caraccas,  in  South  America.  He  de- 
cided to  go ;  but  at  that  time  the  discussion  of  the  Apocrj-phal 
question  coming  up,  so  involved  the  society  that  the  South  American 
Mission  was  relinquished.  Having  decided,  however,  to  close  his 
school  in  the  spring,  he  became  General  Agent  of  the  New  Jersey 
Missionary  Society.  W^hile  thus  employed,  he  wrote  a  series  of 
twenty  articles  on  Education,  setting  forth  the  woeful  destitution  dis- 
covered during  the  Bible  distribution.  These  were  published  in  all 
the  New  Jersey  papers,  and  excited  universal  attention.  They  em- 
bodied a  correspondence  in  relation  to  school-systems,  comprising 
letters  from  Governors  Lincoln,  Bell,  and  Parrie,  John  Holmes,  Ptcv. 
Dr.  Wayland,  Roger  Sherman,  Mr.  Flagg  of  New  York,  Rev.  Dr. 
Hodge  of  Princeton,  and  Robert  Vaux  of  Philadelphia.  The  Legis- 
lature in  coming  together  took  the  subject  in  hand,  and  passed  a  bill 


FIRST   TOUK   IN   EUROPE.  81 

which  is  the  foundation  of  the  present  system  of  public-school  educa- 
tion in  that  State. 

In  the  spring  of  1829  Mr.  Baird  became  General  Agent  of  the 
American  Sabbath-School  Union,  and  removed  his  place  of  residence 
to  Philadelphia.  In  this  agency  he  travelled  throughout  the  United 
States,  held  meetings  from  Portland  to  New  Orleans,  and  was  suc- 
cessful, not  only  in  raising  money,  but  in  exciting  a  deep  and  gen- 
eral interest  in  the  subject.  When  he  entered  on  his  duties,  the 
revenue  of  this  society  was  about  $5000,  and  employed  five  or  six 
laborers.  When  he  retired  from  it  in  1835,  its  revenue  was  $28,000, 
and  it  employed  fifty  laborers.  His  mode  of  conducting  this  enter- 
prise was  somewhat  peculiar.  He  addressed  public  meetings  but 
little  himself.  He  induced  others  to  speak,  engaging  the  services  of 
effective  orators,  statesmen,  and  preachers.  It  was  his  custom  to  or- 
ganize the  meetings,  introduce  the  subject  by  a  few  remarks,  and 
allow  others  to  make  the  speeches.  This  proved  an  excellent  method. 
At  one  meeting  in  New  York  twelve  thousand  dollars  were  col- 
lected. 

It  was  during  this  period  that  he  wrote  his  first  two  volumes,  the 
"  View  of  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi,"  and  the  "  Memoirs  of  Anna 
Jane  Linnard,"  both  of  which  were  well  received  by  the  public. 
The  latter  has  been  reprinted  in  England,  Germany,  and,  we  believe, 
in  France. 

In  1835  Mr.  Baird  decided  to  go  to  Europe.  His  interest  in  the 
religious  state  of  the  Old  World,  awakened  in  early  life,  had  been 
deepening  for  many  years.  When  a  school-boy  at  Uniontown,  his 
attention  had  been  drawn  peculiarly  towards  France.  He  seems  to 
have  had  a  strange  presentiment  that  his  future  life  would,  in  some 
way,  be  connected  with  her  spiritual  interests.  Since  that  time  he 
had  familiarized  himself  with  European  History.  The  accounts  of 
the  French  Revolution  of  1830  were  read  with  avidity,  and  in 
1835  his  long-cherished  plans  reached  the  point  of  their  consum- 
mation. 

At  Dr.  Baird's  suggestion,  a  Society  had  been  formed  in  1834, 
called  "  The  French  Association."  Dr.  Plummer,  of  Virginia,  and 
Dr.  Wisner,  of  Boston,  were  particularly  active  in  its  formation.    As 

6 


o55  kobi:kt  baird. 

the  agent  of  this  society  he  sailed  for  Uavre,  with  his  family,  in  the 
ship  Roland,  2Gth  of  February,  1835.  He  remained  in  Europe 
three  years.  The  winter  months  he  spent  in  Paris,  promoting  the 
objects  of  the  Association ;  writing  and  conducting  an  English  ser- 
vice on  the  Sabbath.  The  first  summer  was  spent  in  Switzerland, 
and  during  the  fii'st  year  a  "  History  of  Temperance  Societies"  was 
written,  which  has  been  published  in  the  French,  Swedish,  Dutch, 
German,  Grecian,  Danish,  Finnish,  and  Russian  languages,  and  scat- 
tered broadcast  over  Europe. 

In  the  first  tour  made  by  Dr.  Baird,  in  behalf  of  the  temperance 
cause,  he  visited  London,  Hamburg,  Copenhagen,  Stockhohn,  Liebig, 
Berlin,  Sweden,  Frankfort-on-the-Maine,  Amsterdam,  Rotterdam, 
and  Brussels.  On  this  journey,  he  had  interviews  with  most  of  the 
rulers  of  Europe.  His  philanthro2:>ic  mission,  and  his  gentlemanly 
bearing,  gained  him  admission  to  the  privacy  of  kings,  and  their 
hearty  co-operation  in  his  work.  The  fruits  of  this  expedition,  and 
the  impulse  given  to  the  cause  of  Temperance,  together  with  the  re- 
form in  social  life  consequent  upon  it,  have  been  published  to  the 
world,  and  we  need  not  repeat  the  facts. 

In  the  spring  of  1837  he  removed  from  Paris  to  Italy,  and  spent 
three  months  in  travelling  over  it,  promoting  the  temperance  ref- 
onnation,  and  gathering  information  in  behalf  of  the  "x\ssociation." 
In  the  winter  1837-38,  he  made  a  Northern  tour  through  Europe, 
visiting  Moscow,  St.  Petersburg,  Berlin,  Poland,  Austria,  and  Ger- 
many. In  the  spring  he  returned  to  America,  the  objects  of  the 
"Association"  having  been  accomplished.  In  the  mean  time  the 
"Foreign  Evangehcal  Society"  had  been  formed,  and  in  August, 
1839,  Dr.  Baird  returned  to  Em"ope  as  its  agent.  In  the  winter  of 
1839-40  he  was  severely  sick,  and  endured  a  long  confinement. 
The  summer  of  1840  was  spent  in  another  tour  to  the  North  of  Eu- 
rope. He  lectured  throughout  Sweden,  speaking  two  or  three  times 
each  day  in  behalf  of  Temperance.  Enthusiasm  was  aroused  in  be- 
half of  the  cause,  and  great  good  effected.  Some  of  the  best  Swedish 
orators  were  his  efficient  coadjutors. 

The  summer  of  1841,  and  the  winter  of  1842-43,  were  spent  in 
this  country,  in  lecturing  in  behalf  of  the  Society.     An  unusual  in- 


YAKIOUS   LABORS.  83 

terest  was  excited  by  his  statements,  and  a  virtual  pledge  was  given 
by  tlie  American  Church,  that  the  work  of  evangelizing  Europe 
should  go  on. 

During  the  summer  of  1842,  he  wrote  the  work  entitled  "Reli- 
gion in  America,"  which  has  been  published  in  the  English,  French, 
German,  Dutch,  Swedish,  Itahan,  and  Danish  languages,  and  is  now 
translated  into  Modern  Greek  and  Armenian.  In  the  autumn  of 
1843,  Dr.  Baird  brought  his  family  to  America,  and  labored  in  this 
country  for  the  Evangelical  Society  till  the  spring  of  1846,  when  he 
returned  to  Europe  and  remained  abroad  till  February  of  1847.  He 
went  as  a  delegate  to  the  World's  Temperance  Convention,  held  at 
Stockholm.  Representatives  from  all  parts  of  Christendom  assem- 
bled there,  and  a  great  meeting  it  was.  Ten  years  had  elapsed  since 
his  pioneer  tour  through  Europe  in  behalf  of  the  reformation,  and 
during  that  time,  the  seed  he  had  scattered  had  taken  root,  and  was 
bearing  fruit  a  hundred-fold.  Many  thousands  had  enrolled  them- 
selves in  the  Total  Abstinence  ranks  throughout  Norway,  Denmark, 
and  Holland.  The  Temperance  Society  in  London  numbered  1 00,000 
members,  and  that  of  Germany  1,000,000  ! 

In  August  of  that  year,  1846,  he  attended  "The  Evangelical  Al- 
liance," which  met  in  London,  and  took  an  active  part  in  its  delib- 
erations. During  this  year  he  visited  Russia,  Poland,  Germany, 
Spain,  Portugal,  Italy,  Greece,  and  Constantinople.  On  his  return 
to  this  country,  in  February,  1847,  he  continued  his  labors  in  con- 
nection with  the  Foreign  Evangelical  Society,  which  were  exceed- 
ingly varied  and  arduous.  He  was  not  only  constantly  employed 
as  a  general  agent  in  preaching  for  the  Society,  but  also  in  superin- 
tending the  disbursement  of  funds,  stationing  of  missionaries,  em- 
ploying of  colporteurs,  conducting  the  extensive  foreign  correspond- 
ence, and  editing  the  Society's  Periodical. 

In  the  year  1851,  he  published  a  "Christian  Retrospect  and 
Register,"  a  volume  of  450  pages,  12mo.  In  the  preparation  of 
this  work,  Dr.  Baird  availed  himself  of  the  assistance  of  Profes- 
sor Martin,  now  of  the  University  of  the  city  of  New  York,  as  well 
as  of  his  son,  now  Rev.  Charles  W.  Baird.  In  July  of  the  same 
year,  he  went  to  Europe  again,  mainly  on  account  of  his  health ; 


84  ROBERT    BAIKD. 

and  spent  five  months  in  travelling  tlirougli  England,  Scotland,  Ire- 
land, France,  Belgium,  Holland,  Geimany,  Hungary,  Italy,  and 
Switzerland.  One  of  the  objects  he  had  in  view,  was  to  attend  an 
important  meeting  of  Protestants  from  all  parts  of  the  gloLe,  which 
had  been  called  by  the  British  Branch  of  the  Evangelical  Alhance. 
There  he  read  a  report  on  the  "  State  and  Prospects  of  Christianity 
in  the  United  States,"  which  was  published  in  the  volume  contain- 
ing the  proceedings  of  the  meeting,  as  well  as  in  a  pamphlet  form, 
together  with  a  speech  delivered  by  him  on  the  same  occasion,  in 
relation  to  American  Slaver}^  Six  thousand  copies  were  published 
and  circulated  through  Great  Britain,  Ireland,  the  Continent,  and 
America. 

In  May,  1855,  Dr.  Baird  resigned  the  ofiice  of  Corresponding 
Secretary  of  the  American  and  Foreign  Christian  Union,  to  devote 
a  few  years  to  the  preparation  of  several  works,  chiefly  relating  to 
the  moral  and  religious  state  of  the  world,  which  he  had  for  years 
contemplated,  but  had  found  impracticable  while  the  burden  of  offi- 
cial responsibility  rested  upon  him.  Nevertheless,  he  accepted,  at 
the  request  of  the  Board  of  Directoi-s,  a  mission  of  two  or  three 
months  to  Europe,  to  look  after  the  operations  of  the  Society  in  Ire- 
land, France,  Belgium,  and  Italy.  This  would  enable  him  to  attend 
an  important  meeting  of  Protestants  in  Paris,  similar  to  the  one 
held  at  London  in  1851,  as  well  as  the  Kirchentag,  a  conference  of 
Evangelical  Christians  held  annually  in  Germany  for  five  years 
past.  With  this  service  terminated  Dr.  Baird's  connection  with 
the  Rehgious  Societies  in  which  he  had  been  engaged  for  twenty- 
seven  years:  first,  for  the  cause  of  Secular  Education  (as  an 
Agent  of  the  New  Jersey  Missionary  Society) ;  next,  for  the  cause 
of  Religious  Education,  in  connection  with  the  American  Sunday- 
School  Union ;  and  lastly,  for  the  promotion  of  Evangehcal  Chris- 
tianity in  Papal  lands. 

Dr.  Baird  is  engaged,  with  but  little  respite,  in  delivering  his 
course  of  lectures  on  Europe.  These  he  has  repeated  about  one 
hundred  times  in  various  parts  of  the  country.  They  are  popular, 
and  deservedly  so.  They  present  a  view  of  Europe  as  it  is,  which  is 
clear  and  graphic.     Each  country  is  treated  of  with  respect  to  its 


CHARxVCTERISTICS LECTURES.  85 

geograpliy,  government,  literature,  religion,  social  life,  great  men, 
the  distinctive  characteristics  of  its  people,  and  whatever  subjects  of 
special  interest  may  pertain  to  it. 

Dr.  Baird  possesses  some  elements  of  character  which  peculiarly 
fit  him  for  the  preparation  and  presentation  of  such  a  course  of  lec- 
tures.    In  the  first  place,  his  memory  is  unyieldingly  tenacious. 

2.  His  habits  of  observation.  He  hears,  sees,  and  knows,  what 
passes  before  him. 

3.  His  universality.  He  is  not  limited  in  his  intercourse,  or  in 
his  investigations,  by  any  sect  or  party.  While  in  Europe  he  min- 
gled with  all  classes,  kings  and  beggars,  priests  and  laymen.  Catho- 
lics and  Protestants,  rich  and  poor,  bond  and  free. 

4.  His  candor.  His  tendency  is  to  recognize  the  truth  wherever 
it  is.  He  sees  things  very  much  as  they  are,  and  when  looking  over 
the  world  wears  colored  glasses  as  little  as  possible.  Still  he  is  de- 
cided in  his  own  tastes  and  opinions. 

5.  His  urbanity.  This  has  insured  him  an  easy  intercourse  with 
all  classes,  and  has  given  him  the  opportunity  for  information  which 
his  universality  has  enabled  him  to  improve. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  faults  in  his  lectures  which  seem  to 
some  considerable.  They  lack  condensation :  there  is  repetition,  and 
some  peculiarities  of  expression.  He  is  inclined  to  enlarge,  episode, 
and  state  facts  which  every  one  is  supposed  to  know.  But  towards 
these  defects  we  are  constrained  to  be  lenient,  because  they  are  the 
necessary  consequence  of  the  amount  of  labor  imposed  on  him.  He 
has  no  time  to  write  out  his  lectures,  or  to  thoroughly  systematize 
them.  They  are  not  speeches,  but  the  familiar  fireside  conversations 
of  an  intelligent  and  communicativ^e  traveller.  One  is  admitted  to 
the  undress  of  a  good  conversationist,  who  will  talk  improvingly  for 
two  hours,  without  requiring  you  to  say  a  word.  We  esteem  such 
a  favor,  and  do  not  feel  inclined  to  criticise  looseness  of  style  or 
lenojth  of  discourse. 

In  this  criticism  of  Dr.  Baird's  lectures,  we  have  given  a  partial 
summary  of  his  character.  Two  or  three  other  points  we  would 
briefly  present.  Dr.  Baird  is  a  man  of  the  people,  in  sympathy  with 
the  people,  ea  nest  for  the  rights  of  the  people.     His  democracy  is 


86  KOBEKT    BAIRD. 

Lumauity,  and  Lis  liumanity  is  Christian  love.  It  is  not  the  democ- 
racy that  prates  on  the  platform,  and  scorns  honest  poverty  from  its 
door ;  that  lauds  the  elevation  of  the  masses,  and  withers  with  its 
unfeeling  contempt  the  upward  stniggliugs  of  genius.  It  is  not  the 
humanity  that  endows  seminaries,  and  gives  no  moment  for  mental 
culture  to  its  servant ;  that  subscribes  thousands  to  benevolent  insti- 
tutions, and  grinds  the  face  of  the  poor.  His  is  a  democracy  that 
acts  more  than  it  talks,  and  a  humanity  that  feels  more  than  it  can 
act.  In  this  connection  we  quote  the  following  paragraph  from  an 
article  by  Dr.  Baird  on  "  Our  Age — its  Progress,  Prospects,  and  De- 
mands." 

"  There  are  at  this  moment  two  great  struggles  going  on  in  the 
world — the  like  of  which  the  world  has  never  before  seen.  One  is 
the  mighty  movement  which  men  are  making  in  behalf  of  political 
liberty ;  the  other  is  that  which  is  making  in  some  directions  in  be- 
half of  religious  freedom.  Of  these  two  movements,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, that  which  relates  merely  to  political  liberty,  to  that  which 
is  material,  is  much  more  powerful  than  that  relating  to  the  spirit- 
ual. Whole  nations  are  rising  up  to  shake  oflf  the  yoke  of  despotism 
beneath  which  they  have  so  long  groaned.  In  this  great  movement, 
it  is  not  simply  the  struggle  of  the  higher  classes — the  nobles  and 
other  powerful  citizens — the  "  upper  ten  thousand"  of  society — who 
are  striving  to  throw  ofi'  a  superior  despotism  which  rests  heavily 
upon  them.  But  it  is  the  "  masses,"  the  despised  masses,  who  have 
in  many  countries  been  crushed  to  the  ground  by  feudal  tyranny. 
It  is  the  poor,  degraded,  ignorant  people,  who  had  but  little  encour- 
agement given  them  to  attempt  to  rise  above  the  abject  condition  in 
which  they  were  born,  and  who  have  been  trodden  into  the  very 
dust  by  the  heel  of  a  proud  and  insolent  aristocracy." 

His  heart  is  in  sympathy  with  the  Progress  of  the  Age.  We  do 
not  use  this  term  in  a  cant  way.  There  is  a  Progress  of  the  Age 
towards  freedom,  freedom  of  thought,  freedom  of  person,  freedom  of 
opinion,  freedom  of  soul.  We  make  the  following  extract  as  illus- 
trative : 

"Intimately  connected  with,  and  in  fact  consequent  upon,  this 
wide  and  rapid  diflusion  of  opinion,  of  argument,  of  light,  we  behold 


PERSONAL    DESCRirriOX.  8T 

a  miglity  awakening  of  the  human  mind  to  question  and  investigate 
anew  every  subject.  There  is  an  increasing  disposition  to  take 
nothing  on  authority,  to  receive  nothing  merely  as  tradition.  Every 
thing  in  science,  morals,  religion,  politics,  economy,  and  even  law, 
must  be  re-examined,  re-judged,  and  re-decided.  A  momentous  rev- 
v)lution  is  going  forward  in  the  moral,  religious,  and  scientific  world. 
Whatever  cannot  stand  the  test  of  the  most  rigid  scrutiny,  is  reject- 
ed as  useless,  if  not  pernicious. 

"  In  this  great  movement  and  collision  of  mind,  what  a  change  is 
coming  over  the  political  world !  Nations  are  rising  up  to  interro- 
gate the  tyrants  who  have  held  them  in  subjection,  and  to  compel 
them  to  concede  the  just  rights  of  the  people,  or  retire  from  their 
thrones.  At  length,  mankind  are  assuming  an  erect  posture,  and 
demanding  that  the  governments  which  they  must  obey  shall  be 
such  as  they  themselves  choose  to  establish.  They  are  beginning  to 
think  that  whilst  it  is  unquestionable  that  God  has  ordained  order 
and  government  for  the  nations,  He  has  left  its  forms  and  details  to 
those  who  are  to  be  its  subjects." 

In  personal  appearance  Dr.  Baird  is  prepossessing.  He  is  nearly 
six  feet  in  height,  stout  in  proportion,  with  fresh  complexion,  regular 
features,  large  blue  eyes,  and  a  fine  forehead.  He  stoops  somewhat, 
especially  when  in  the  pulpit.  It  is  a  habit  induced,  we  apprehend, 
by  natural  diffidence.  He  was  married  at  Philadelphia,  August  24, 
1824,  to  Miss  Dubuisson.  He  has  four  sons  living.  Rev.  Charles 
W.  Baird,  though  only  twenty-seven,  has  a  desirable  reputation  as  a 
writer  both  of  history  and  of  poetry.  He  is  the  author  of  "  Eutaxia, 
or  the  Presbyterian  Liturgies,"  a  work  which  has  enlisted  considera- 
ble interest.  Henry  M.  Baird,  a  younger  brother,  is  publishing  a 
valuable  work,  entitled  "  Athens  and  Greece,  or  a  Year  on  Classic 
Ground."     Dr.  Baird's  home-life  has  been  of  the  happiest. 

The  productions  of  Dr.  Baird's  pen  have  been  numerous,  and  re- 
markably so,  considering  his  other  arduous  labors,  and  the  many  and 
long  journeys  he  has  made.  Besides  editing  two  monthly  publica- 
tions from  1847  to  1855,  he  has  made  contributions  to  the  monthly 
and  quarterly  reviews,  both  American  and  foreign,  many  of  which 
are  of  permanent  value. 


88  EGBERT    BALED. 

Besides  these  works,  Dr.  Baird  has  written  much  for  the  newspa- 
pers. His  style  is  well  adapted  to  this  department.  It  is  easy  and 
flowing,  popular  and  pithy.  He  has  written  several  series  of  Euro- 
pean letters  for  the  "Commercial  Advertiser,"  "Journal  of  Com- 
merce," and  "  N.  Y.  Evangelist."  The  series  over  the  signature  of 
"  Americanus,"  in  the  "  Commercial  Advertiser,"  reached  the  num- 
ber of  one  hundred  and  twenty. 

We  subjoin  a  list  of  his  most  important  works : 

PITBLISBrED 

1 .  View  of  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi 1832 

2.  Life  of  Anna  Jane  Linnard 1834 

3.  Letter  to  Lord  Brougham 1835 

4.  Life  of  the  Kev.  Joseph  Sandford 1836 

5.  History  of  the  Temperance  Societies 1836 

6.  L'Union  de  I'Eglise  avec  I'Etat  dans  la  Nouvelle  Angleterre 1837 

7.  Transplanted  Flowers 1839 

8.  Visit  to  Northern  Europe  (2  vols.) 1841 

9.  Eeligion  in  America,  in  England  (1  vol. ,  720  pp.) 1843 

10.  Protestantism  in  Italy 1845 

11.  Christian  Retrospect  and  Register 1851 

12.  State  and  Prospects  of  Eeligion  in  the  United  States 1851 

Dr.  Baird  has  striven  to  leave  the  world  better  than  he  found  it. 
With  this  end  in  \dew  Heaven  has  furnished  the  means.  The  way 
of  doing  good  has  always  been  open  before  him,  and  he  has  had  no 
concern  otherwise  than  to  press  on  in  it. 

Blest  is  the  man  who  finds  his  place  and  fills  it !  Be  he  known 
or  unknown,  rich  or  poor,  it  matters  little.  He  has  done  what  it 
was  his  duty  to  do.  "  Father,  I  have  accomplished  that  whereimto 
thou  didst  send  me." 


JOHN  P.  DURBIN, 

THE  PIONEER  PREACHEE. 


'  The  Toice  of  him  that  crieth  in  the  wilderness,  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the 
Lord,  make  straight  in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our  God." 


Sincere  joy  must  live  in  the  soul  of  one,  who,  starting  in  life  with 
no  other  impelling  power  than  the  honest  desire  for  self-improve- 
ment and  for  other's  good,  finds,  when  the  days  of  a  half  century 
have  rolled  by,  that  he  actually  w,  and  that  he  really  does.  The 
contrast  of  boyhood,  ignorance,  and  unimportance,  with  age,  ex- 
perience, and  influence,  is  striking  and  agreeable.  He  need  not  be 
self-sufiicient,  but  he  may  be  grateful ;  not  arrogant,  but  happy.  He 
started  forty  or  fifty  years  ago  to  do  a  work,  and  the  work  is  done. 

He  started  to  he,  and  he  has  become  ;  to  cZo,  and  he  has  achieved. 
He  started  with  no  guide  but  the  light  of  Heaven,  and  no  companion 
but  the  "  rod  and  the  stafi","  to  thread  the  wilderness  of  life ;  yet,  as 
he  passed  on,  a  way  opened  among  the  trees.  He  started  with  no 
encouragement  save  his  own  heroism,  but  this  has  carried  him  over 
mountain  obstacles,  and  bridged  many  a  morass  of  despondency.  He 
started  ignorant,  and  he  has  become  learned ;  he  started  weak,  and 
he  has  become  strong ;  he  started  unknown,  and  he  has  become  re- 
nowned ;  he  started  with  shadowy  anticipations,  and  he  looks  back 
on  substantial  facts  ;  he  went  forth,  "  weeping,  bearing  precious  seed," 
and  he  has  "  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with 
him." 

And  more  than  this,  he  has  been  all  the  while  achieving  for  the 
advancement  of  humanity.  He  has  been  shedding  light,  dispelling 
error,  staying  crime,  removing  "  sorrow,  wrong,  and  trouble"  from 


90  JOHN    P.    DUKBIN. 

the  earth.  Should  he  not  rejoice  ?  And  although  there  is  much  in 
his  retrospection  to  evoke  the  sigh  and  start  the  tear,  although  the 
best  must  recall  baiTen  days,  wasted  opportunities,  mistaken  \aews, 
and  by-path  wanderings,  yet  the  recollection  of  these  should  mellow, 
not  mar  the  joy.  Dr.  Durbin  was  once  a  poor  apprentice-boy ;  and 
at  the  age  of  eighteen  could  do  little  more,  in  an  intellectual  way, 
than  read  and  write,  and  these  by  no  means  excellently.  His  early 
life  was  spent  in  Kentucky.  His  parents  resided  in  Bourbon  county 
of  that  State,  and  his  father  was  a  farmer  in  moderate  circumstances. 
In  1814,  when  he  was  fourteen  years  of  age,  he  commenced  an  ap- 
prenticeship in  a  cabinet-maker's  shop,  where  he  remained  three 
years.  After  this  he  worked  one  year  at  his  trade,  during  which 
time  he  became  seriously  impressed  with  religious  truths,  and  at  last 
rejoiced  in  the  possession  of  the  Christian's  hope  and  the  Christian's 
peace.  Then  a  Sa\aour's  love  so  touched  the  inmost  springs  of  being, 
that  he  felt  a  holy  impulse  to  set  before  others  the  light  which  had 
beamed  so  brightly  and  waimly  on  his  own  spirit.  And  the  impulse 
was  so  resistless  that  he  relinquished  business,  and  in  two  months 
had  joined  the  Western  Conference,  and  commenced  his  labors,  as  a 
pioneer  and  preacher,  in  Ohio  and  Indiana.  This  field  of  labor  was 
extensive,  for  the  places  at  which  he  regularly  preached  could  hardly 
be  included  in  a  circumference  of  three  hundred  miles. 

It  will  excite  the  surprise  of  some  that  Mr.  Durbin  could  have 
ventured,  or  should  have  been  permitted,  to  enter  upon  the  great 
work  of  a  preacher  at  so  early  an  age,  and  with  such  limited  acquire- 
ments. He  had  numbered  as  yet  only  eighteen  years,  and  had  re- 
ceived not  even  an  ordinary  New  England  public-school  education. 
Moreover,  the  only  library  to  which  he  had  access  was  readily  dis- 
posed of  on  his  father's  mantel-piece,  being  composed  of  three  vol- 
umes— the  Bible,  Scott's  First  Lessons,  and  an  old  English  history. 
To  be  sure,  Mr.  Durbin  had  what  some  one  styles  "  the  best  work  on 
theology  extant" — the  Bible ;  but  all  commentaries,  exegeses,  evi- 
dences, church  histories,  &c.,  usually  considered  an  essential  outfit  of 
a  soldier  of  the  Cross,  unfortunately  did  not  fall  in  his  way.  Not- 
withstanding, he  preached  with  vigor  and  effect,  and  his  labors 
were  greatly  blessed.     What  conclusion  shall  be  derived  fi'om  this 


BOOK-EDUCATION.  91 

fact  ?  That  learning  is  not  essential  to  the  preacher  ?  By  no  means. 
Dr.  Durbin  himself  would  not  so  conclude.  His  future  course  of  se- 
vere and  unremitted  study  in  philosophy,  languages,  and  science,  is  a 
practical  demonstration  that  he  of  all  men  least  underrates  the  value 
of  an  education  gained  from  books.  The  truth  is,  that  Mr.  Durbin 
had  unusual  native  vigor  and  force  of  mind.  In  defeult  of  external 
assistance  from  books,  he  could  rely  on  his  own  genius  and  be  sus- 
tained. He  was  naturally  a  fluent  and  effective  speaker.  He  could 
utter  the  good  thought  in  him  so  that  others  could  receive  it  in  its 
length,  breadth,  and  true  bearings.  He  had,  also,  a  knowledge 
which  may  be,  but  is  not  necessarily  derived  from  books — a  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature.  This  he  could  acquire,  and  did  acquire, 
from  the  great  book  of  humanity,  which  is  open  to  all.  He  knew 
the  avenues  to  the  human  heart ;  he  could  touch  its  secret  springs, 
and  analyze  its  hidden  workings.  Nay,  more,  he  had  a  heart  of  his 
own,  into  which  he  had  often  searchingly  looked.  There  he  had 
seen  the  reflex  of  the  heart  of  his  brother  man.  He  had  closely 
questioned  his  own  spirit,  and  the  answerings  had  been  worth  a  li- 
brary to  him.  In  this  lies  the  source  of  his  power  and  the  secret  of 
his  success.  And  this  self-knowledge  is  the  source  of  the  power  of 
every  powerfully-minded  man.  Mere  facts  are  of  little  worth,  except 
as  connected  wdth  and  subser\dent  to  principles.  The  noblest 
thoughts,  the  most  poetical  imaginings,  the  sublimest  truths  are  pow- 
erless as  the  sound  of  last  year's  running  water,  or  the  rushing  of 
last  year's  wind,  unless  there  be  already  in  the  soul  something  which 
answers  to  them.  Mere  reading  cannot  give  this  something.  It  is 
the  product  of  an  inward  growth,  nurtured  by  reflection,  and  brought 
out  by  experience.  Hence  it  is  that  to  some  people  the  highest  poe- 
try is  no  better  than  "sounding  brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal." 
Hence  it  is  that  the  deep  things  of  philosophy  are  to  some  minds 
"  transcendental."  Hence  the  Jews  said,  in  reply  to  the  earnest  de- 
livery of  holiest  truths,  "  These  men  are  full  of  new  \^ine."  We 
would  not  undervalue  "  book-learning,"  but  we  note  the  fact  that 
some  of  our  completest  orators  have  become  so  with  little  aid  from 
books.  Take  John  B.  Gough  as  an  example — perhaps  the  most 
genuine  orator  of  to-day ;  and  yet  Gough  has  not  attended  school 


92  JOUN    p.    DUKBIN. 

since  lie  was  twelve  years  old.  Yet  he  lias  studied — studied  nature, 
studied  men,  studied  liimself.  It  is  to  this  study  that  that  of  books 
must  be  subsement  and  conducive.  They  should  be  employed  as 
helps  to  this  end.  They  are  great  helps.  Few  men  can  succeed 
without  them ;  no  man,  unless  he  is  gifted  with  uncommon  acute- 
ness  and  force  of  mind,  and  a  native  disposition  to  reflect  and  ob- 
serve. So  far  from  undervaluing  a  regular  collegiate  education,  we 
deem  it  in  most  cases  essential.  The  dangers  arising  to  a  religious 
teacher  from  the  lack  of  it  are  many  and  great.  The  "  self-educated" 
man  is  Hable  to  become  the  self-conceited,  pedantic,  and  obtrusive 
man.  Mr.  Durbin  escaped  its  dangers,  until  a  regular  course  of 
study  removed  them  forever.  From  the  outset  he  valued  the  educa- 
tion of  books  and  teachers,  and  hence,  as  he  was  riding  on  horseback 
through  his  circuit,  in  that  new  and  sparsely-settled  country,  he 
studied  the  English  Grammar,  preparatory  to  an  academical  course. 

We  have  dwelt  longer  on  this  part  of  the  history,  because  it  is  the 
interesting  feature  of  Dr.  Durbin's  life ;  that,  an  unlettered  lad  of 
eighteen,  he  should  have  passed  from  work-bench  to  pulpit ;  that, 
after  entrance  on  active  professional  duty,  he  should  have  bent  him- 
self to  the  regular  routine  of  school ;  that  he  should  have  fulfilled 
these  tasks  without  interruption  to  preaching,  and  that  he  should 
have  at  last  attained  his  present  position  as  a  theologian,  a  scholar, 
and  an  orator,  eminent  in  the  very  departments  to  which  he  was  at 
first  a  stranger  and  an  alien,  are  facts  worthy  of  being  dwelt  upon 
and  talked  about. 

There  is  another  fact  worth  noticing.  We  refer  to  the  impulse 
given  to  the  intellect  by  Christianity.  Mr.  Durbin,  prenous  to  be- 
coming a  Christian,  had  not  read  or  studied  more  than  other  boys — 
perhaps  not  so  much  as  many  do  in  similar  circumstances.  He  had 
worked  regularly  at  his  trade,  and  spent  leisure  hours,  as  most  boys 
do,  in  no  particular  way.  But  now  it  is  all  changed  with  him ;  now 
he  studies  English  grammar  on  horseback ;  now  he  preaches  from 
place  to  place ;  now  he  spends  hour  after  hour  of  the  night  in  stor- 
ing and  training  his  mind.  How  is  this  ?  Is  he  ambitious  ?  Not  at 
all.  He  has  simply  become  a  Christian,  and  the  world  is  a  new 
world  to  him.     It  is  a  place  in  which  to  be  and  to  do — not  for  one's 


FIRST    VISIT    TO    NEW    YORK.  93 

own  sake,  but  for  Christ's  sake.  The  perfect  man  is  the  standard ; 
and  as  for  the  good  to  be  done,  why  the  whole  earth  groans  under 
the  weight  of  it,  and  the  heavens  cry  out  for  workmen  to  do  it.  A 
new  zest  is  given  to  life ;  a  fine  enthusiasm  fires  his  spirit ;  pro- 
gress, improvement,  development,  are  his  ideas  :  and  this  is  the  fruit 
of  Christianity. 

In  1821  Mr.  Durbin  connected  himself  with  the  Miami  University, 
and  commenced  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek.  While  thus  pushing 
his  studies  he  did  not  relinquish  preaching,  but,  being  stationed  at 
Hamilton,  a  town  twelve  miles  distant,  walked  to  his  church  at  the 
close  of  each  week,  and  "  divided  the  word  of  truth."  In  the  year 
1823,  being  now  twenty-three  years  of  age,  he  became  a  member  of 
Cincinnati  College,  and  was  graduated  in  1825.  There  his  appli- 
cation to  study  was  so  severe  as  to  injure  materially  his  health ;  so 
that,  on  leaving  college,  he  travelled  through  the  South  for  one  year 
as  agent  in  behalf  of  Augusta  College.  This  service  he  enjoyed, 
and  profited  by  its  advantages.  His  circle  of  friends  was  enlarged, 
and  health  benefited. 

Mr.  Durbin  received  the  second  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  at  grad- 
uation. It  was  a  marked  tribute  to  his  energy  and  acquirements, 
and  its  agTeeableness  was  enhanced  by  the  fact,  that  it  was  conferred 
at  the  suggestion  of  William  Henry  Harrison,  afterwards  President 
of  the  United  States.  During  the  same  year  (1826),  he  made  his 
first  visit  to  New  York.  That  visit  is  well  remembered  by  many  a 
one  who  was  charmed  by  his  oratoiy,  or  impressed  by  his  appeals. 
His  uncommon  extempore,  united  to  a  youthful  appearance,  and  the 
fact  of  early  disadvantages,  created  a  marked  sensation.  His  voice 
was  in  constant  demand,  either  on  the  platform  before  crowded  au- 
diences, or  in  the  social  circle.  He  was  a  star  in  the  metropolis  of 
the  Union,  no  slight  transition  from  the  work-bench  in  a  frontier 
village.  But  it  did  not  cost  him  his  modesty.  He  received  the  at- 
tentions quietly,  efiected  all  the  good  he  might,  and  then  returned 
to  duty  at  the  South.  His  sphere,  meanwhile,  had  been  enlarged. 
The  Publican  of  Augusta  College  was  made  a  Professor.  From 
1826to  1831  he  filled  the  Professorship  of  Ancient  Languages. 
This  position  afibrded  opportunity  for  higher  studies.     It  was  sedu- 


94:  JOUN    P.    DUKBIN. 

lously  improved,  and  to  the  course  of  life  at  this  time,  more  than  to 
any  other  period,  is  Dr.  Durbin  indebted  for  the  freedom  fi'om  tech- 
nicality, pro\-incialism,  and  inaccuracy  -which  marks  his  style. 

In  the  ^Yinter  of  1831-32  Dr.  Durbin  resided  at  Washington, 
having  been  elected  Chaplain  of  the  United  States  Senate.  There 
he  was  a  favorite.  Henry  Clay  spoke  of  him  as  one  of  the  best  ora- 
tors he  had  ever  heard,  whether  connected  with  Church  or  Stat^?. 
Abel  Stevens,  editor  ©f  the  National  Magazine,  says — 

"  nis  sermons  in  the  capitol  are  remembered  still  for  their  pun- 
gency and  power.  It  fell  to  his  lot,  by  vote  of  the  House,  and 
requisition  from  Mr.  Clay,  the  chairman,  to  preach  the  sermon  in 
the  capitol  on  the  one  hundredth  birthday  of  General  Washington. 
Both  houses  and  the  Supreme  Court  adjourned,  and  such  an  audi- 
ence probably  has  never,  before  or  since,  been  seen  in  the  capitol. 
When  the  slender  form  of  the  preacher  appeared  in  the  speaker's 
desk,  before  the  vast  and  august  assembly,  there  was  a  slight  tremor 
of  apprehension  in  the  throng ;  and  the  western  members  felt  special 
solicitude.  The  tune  of  Old  Hundred  resounded  through  the  vast 
hall,  and  was  followed  by  the  clear,  composed,  and  peculiar  voice  of 
the  preacher  in  prayer ;  and  all  hearts  were  quieted.  The  text  was 
Rev.  iv.  11,  'Thou  art  worthy,  0  Lord,  to  receive  glory,  and  honor, 
and  power :  for  thou  hast  created  all  things,  and  for  thy  pleasure 
they  are  and  were  created.'  The  whole  drift  of  the  sermon  was  to 
show  the  agency  of  God  in  our  Revolution,  and  that  the  prosperity 
of  the  country  depended  upon  morals  and  religion ;  there  was  no 
effort  at  display  in  it ;  but  more  than  usual  directness,  plainness,  and 
earnestness.  It  had  all  the  characteristic  effect  of  his  discourses. 
At  the  close  of  the  service,  as  he  descended  from  the  speaker's  chair, 
Governor  Wickliff,  of  Kentucky,  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said :  '  I 
advise  you  never  to  preach  again,  if  you  have  regard  to  your  repu- 
tation. You  never  can  see  such  another  day  as  this ;  and  I  doubt 
whether  you  can  do  such  another  deed  as  you  have  done  to-day. 
The  preacher  bowed  and  was  silent." 

In  the  spring  of  1832  he  was  elected  to  the  Professorship  of  Nat- 
ural Sciences  in  the  Wesleyan  University,  bnt  resigned  on  being 
chosen  soon  after,  by  the  General  Conference,  Editor  of  "The  Chris- 


ORATORY.  95 

tian  Advocate  and  Journal,"  tlie  New  York  organ  of  tlie  Metho- 
dists. 

In  1834  he  was  made  President  of  Dickinson  College,  an  appoint- 
ment so  unexpected,  that  the  first  hint  of  it  came  with  the  congratu- 
lations of  a  friend  in  the  street.  He  held  that  post  till  1845,  when 
he  resumed  preaching  at  Philadelphia,  where  he  now  resides. 

In  April,  1842,  he  went  to  Europe  and  the  East,  returning  in  Au- 
gust, 1843.  The  Harpers  published  the  written  results  of  his  travels 
in  four  volumes.  These  works  are  condensed  in  expression,  lively  in 
tone,  and  instructive  in  details.  Pteflections  upon  governments  and 
religions  are  interwoven  in  sufficient  but  not  excessive  quantity. 
Over  ten  thousand  copies  have  been  demanded  by  the  public. 

In  1850  he  was  unanimously  appointed,  by  the  Bishops,  Mission- 
ary Secretary,  in  the  place  of  Dr.  Pitman,  who  resigned  on  account 
of  ill  health.  The  General  Conference  of  1852  reappointed  him  to 
the  same  post,  which  he  now  holds. 

Dr.  Durbin  shines  pre-eminently  on  the  platform.  He  is  an  ora- 
tor in  the  true  sense  of  the  term.  He  can  arouse  the  sympathies, 
move  the  passions,  convince  the  understanding,  and  charm  the  fancy. 
He  has  the  elements  of  character  which  go  to  make  up  a  popular 
speaker.  His  command  of  language  is  unbounded.  Never  at  a  loss 
for  a  word,  his  sentences  pour  out  with  the  ease  and  smoothness  of 
flowing  oil.  He  has  also  a  vein  of  pleasantry,  which,  at  times,  rises 
into  humor,  and  which  he  uses  with  discrimination  and  success.  He 
is  always  self-possessed.  No  attack  of  an  opponent,  no  unexpected 
call  before  an  audience,  no  unforeseen  accident  can  tip  the  balance 
of  his  self-control.  He  has  a  good  degree  of  fancy,  and  can  paint  a 
scene  with  harmonious  and  lively  coloring.  His  voice  is  not  supe- 
rior. It  lacks  volume,  but  is  not  disagreeable.  His  manner  and 
modulation  are,  however,  at  times,  strikingly  at  fault.  At  the  com- 
mencement of  his  speeches  he  occasionally  has  an  unfortunate  way 
of  drawling  his  words  in  a  monotonous,  ineflBcient,  feeble  style,  the 
sentences  "dragging  their  slow  length  along,"  like  Alexandrine 
verse.  How  he  should  have  fallen  into  this  way  is  a  puzzle,  for  it  is 
so  dissonant  with  his  character.  It  deserves  censure,  because  there 
is  no  need  of  it,  as  is  seen  from  the  fact  that,  as  he  advances  in  a 


96  JOHN    p.    DURBIX. 

speech,  he  drops  it,  as  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  let  go  his  burden,  and  starts 
on  with  energy,  hfe,  and  animation.  At  first  it  seemed  as  if  there 
vrere  no  strength  of  body,  no  activity  of  mind,  and  no  interest  of 
heart ;  but  now  all  is  warmth,  enthusiasm,  and  thought.  His  success 
on  the  platform  is  very  different  on  different  occasions,  as  his  remarks 
are  entirely  extempore,  and  he  always  trusts  to  the  occasion  for  the 
impulse  necessary  to  the  formation  of  sentences.  Thus  he  occasion- 
ally fails  in  getting  "  warmed  up ;"  while,  at  times,  he  wields  the 
wand  of  eloquence  with  a  master's  hand.  He  is  a  superior  debater, 
and  always  successful ;  but  he  never  sets  foot  in  the  arena  of  discus- 
sion until  othei*s  have  exhausted  the  subject  to  the  extent  of  their 
ability.  Then  he  presents  himself,  reviews  the  whole  ground,  sums 
up  the  argument,  and  virtually  decides  the  question. 

The  characteristic  of  Dr.  Durbin's  mind  is  its  practical  cast.  It 
has  to  do  with  facts  rather  than  with  theories.  He  is  a  man  of  de- 
tails, one  who  attends  to  the  minutiae  of  whatever  is  before  him. 
He  observes  every  thing  with  a  closeness  which  is  astonishing. 
Nothing  escapes  his  scrutiny,  not  even  signboards  as  he  walks 
the  street.  Hence  he  proves  an  excellent  working  man.  He  will 
carry  out  a  plan  to  the  minutest  detail  with  unwavering  success. 
He  makes  an  admirable  financier,  and  a  most  able  Society  secretary. 
There  are  no  loose  screws  in  the  machinery  under  his  control. 
When  he  was  President  of  Dickinson  College,  the  finances  of  the  in- 
stitution were  in  perfect  order.  There  was  always  money  to  pay 
debts  on  the  day  they  became  due. 

He  is  not  a  philosopher  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term.  He 
does  not  revel  in  pure  thought.  Abstract  principles  he  does  not  dis- 
cuss, and  to  the  higher  philosophical  theories  he  pays  little  attention. 
"  Transcendentalism"  is  to  him  a  bank  of  fog  which  the  light  of  ge- 
nius may  illuminate,  but  cannot  dissipate.  We  do  not  mean  that  he 
is  so  fond  of  facts  as  to  disregard  principles,  or  so  nice  in  details  as 
to  forget  generalizations,  but  his  power  lies  in  sound  and  shrewd 
conclusions  from  obser\'ation  rather  than  from  speculation.  Natural 
sciences  are  in  accordance  with  his  tastes.  He  is  familiar  with  the 
principles  of  geology,  and  his  lectures  to  the  students  at  the  college 
on  that  science,  which  is  usually  deemed  as  dry  and  hard  as  the 


APPEARANCE.  97 

rocks  of  wliicli  it  treats,  were  listened  to  with  avidity.  So  in  the 
principles  of  government  and  of  political  economy  he  is  well  versed, 
and  ethnology  he  has  pursued  with  zeal.  Some  of  our  readers  have 
seen  a  treatise,  which  he  published,  on  the  harmony  between  the 
Mosaic  account  of  the  Creation  and  the  discoveries  of  Geology.  In 
sentiment  and  opinion  he  would  be  ranked  as  a  conservative.  He  is 
neither  ultra  in  notions  nor  rash  in  conclusions.  He  regards  subjects 
with  candor,  and  comprehends  all  opposing  facts. 

In  preaching,  he  succeeds  in  keeping  out  of  the  beaten  track  both 
of  thought  and  of  expression.  He  avoids  those  phrases  which  have 
become  so  famihar  as  to  savor  of  cant.  Hence  some  unreflecting 
people  have  esteemed  him  speculative,  because  his  views  were 
simply  novel,  when  no  man  is  less  so.  Practical  is  his  chosen  ad- 
jective. 

His  memory  of  facts  and  of  thoughts  is  tenacious,  but  of  words  it 
is  slippery.  He  cannot  commit  sentences  to  memory,  and  hence  the 
hearer  may  never  be  alarmed  lest  his  extempore  eloquence  has  been 
"  cut  and  dried." 

Dr.  Durbin  has  done  much  to  elevate  and  establish  the  Methodist 
Church  in  this  country.  Perhaps  he  has  done  no  more  than  some 
others,  but  he  has  fulfilled  his  proportion.  In  almost  every  depart- 
ment of  labor  he  has  been  stationed,  and  has  shown  himself  a  profit- 
able servant.  He  has  wTitten  considerably  for  the  religious  papers, 
and  for  the  Methodist  Quarterly  Review.  In  this  latter  admirable 
publication  will  be  found  able  critiques  on  "  Guizot's  History  of  Civ- 
ilization," and  "  Butler's  Analogy." 

Mr.  Stevens  well  describes  his  appearance  as  follows : 

"  Dr.  Durbin  is  slight  in  person,  but  apparently  in  excellent  health. 
He  walks  with  a  light,  elastic  step.  We  know  not  but  that  he  must 
consent  to  be  placed  in  the  glorious  class  of  '  homely  men,'  who  fill 
so  largely  the  annals  of  greatness.  We  once  thought  this  his  in- 
evitable allotment ;  but  by  closer  and  more  familiar  observation,  or 
perhaps  the  '  fascination'  of  that  indefinable — some  would  call  it 
mesmeric — influence  which  usually  accompanies  men  of  genius,  we 
have  been  tempted  to  change  our  mind,  and  there  is  a  lurking  dis- 
position about  our  heart  to  consider  him  a  decidedly  interesting- 


98  JOHN    p.    DUKBIN. 

lookino"  man.  His  head  is  diminutive,  nearly  as  outright  a  refuta- 
tion of  phrenology  as  that  of  the  late  Dr.  Channing,  or  Bancroft,  or 
Bishop  Simpson,  another  of  the  leading  men  of  his  own  church ;  his 
eyes  are  blue ;  his  nose  small,  and  slightly  upturned  (for  which  he 
may  claim  brotherhood  with  Pitt,  Burke,  and  other  notabilities) ; 
his  mouth  is  remarkable  for  its  characteristic  expression ;  it  indicates 
great  firmness,  and  the  lines  from  the  nostrils  to  its  comers  are  dis- 
tinctly marked.  His  hair  is  slightly  sprinkled  with  gray.  His  com- 
plexion is  somewhat  sanguine — it  glows  with  good  health,  and  re- 
minds you  not  of  the  suflused  floridness  of  the  English  face,  but  of 
the  less  tumid  and  more  embrowned  countenance  of  the  continental 
Europeans. 

"  After  all,  it  is  not  the  features,  as  far  as  the  bare  lineaments  may 
be  so  called,  that  give  characteristic  expression  to  the  human  face, 
just  as  it  is  not  the  mere  verbal  expression  of  a  writer  that  constitutes 
his  style.  There  is  a  subtile,  general,  indescribable  something — in- 
describable because  of  its  exquisite  subtilty  and  spiritual  significance, 
which  renders  alike  the  features  and  the  style  of  a  man  instinct  with 
his  soul,  and  with  even  his  individual  characteristics.  The  highest 
perfection  of  art  consists  in  the  ability  to  give  to  the  canvas  or  the 
marble  this  visible  animus  of  the  man.  Dr.  Dm-bin^s  face  is  strongly 
marked  in  this  respect ;  his  smile  is  especially  expressive ;  it  plays 
with  outbeaming  radiance,  and  is  usually  enhanced  by  some  accom- 
panying gesture  expressive  of  refined  courtesy.  The  intellectual  and 
moral  indication  of  the  countenance  is  especially  significant  in  his 
preaching.  In  his  more  emphatic  passages  his  features  glow,  and 
his  eyes  radiate  an  electrical  fire  which  darts  with  resistless  effect 
among  his  hearers. 

"  His  voice  is  peculiar :  there  seems  to  be  an  organic  defect  about 
it.  It  cannot  be  called  feminine,  nor  squealing ;  but  you  are  induced 
to  suppose  that  it  would  have  been  decidedly  one  or  the  other  w^ero 
it  not  for  assiduous  cultivation,  by  which  he  has  subdued  it  into 
perfect  control.  lie  uses  it  as  a  well-trained  musician  uses  his  in- 
strument, and  though  far  from  musical,  it  is  not  disagreeable.  It 
drawls  somewhat,  and  on  its  higher  keys  becomes  harsh ;  but  it  is 
seldom  raised  above  an  agreeable  colloquial  tone. 


CONCLUSION.  99 

"  We  have  no  hesitancy  in  pronouncing  Dr.  Durbin  the  most  in- 
teresting preacher  now  in  the  Methodist  pulpit.  We  gave  Olin  this 
distinction  once,  but  it  remains  now  with  Durbin.  Others  there  are 
who  excel  him  in  particular  respects,  but  none  that  equal  him  either 
in  popular  effect  or  in  the  interest  of  inteUigent,  thoughtful  minds. 
His  sermons  are  usually  long,  but  no  one  tires  with  them ;  no  one 
hears  the  last  sentence  without  regret,  nor  leaves  the  church  without 
a  vivid,  if  not  a  profound  impression  of  the  discourse." 

Thus  are  briefly  sketched  the  prominent  points  of  Dr.  Durbin's  life 
and  character.  The  wide  scope  of  experience  imparts  peculiar  inter- 
est. A  pioneer  circuit,  a  college  agency,  a  professorship,  a  Senate 
chaplaincy,  a  college  presidency,  an  editorship,  a  pastorate,  and  a 
mission  secretaryship,  all  worthily  filled  by  one  man,  whose  life  is 
yet  at  its  meridian,  make  a  rare  group.  Yet  not  so  much  the  va- 
riety of  the  life,  as  the  contrast  of  its  commencement,  is  the  attrac- 
tion. The  greatness  of  result  is  enhanced  by  the  minuteness  of  be- 
ginning. It  is  the  obstacles  overcome  which  give  grandeur  to 
achievement.  It  is  shadow  depth  which  heightens  light.  Other 
men  have  been  presidents  of  colleges  and  chaplains  of  senates,  but 
they  were  not  all  reared  in  humble  circumstances,  bound  down  by 
poverty ;  unblessed  by  schools,  unadmitted  to  libraries,  unaided  by 
teachers  ;  apprenticed  to  a  work-bench,  yet  struggling  on,  and  fight- 
ing the  way  up ;  watchful  of  opportunities ;  snatching  wayside  facil- 
ities ;  gathering  "  line  upon  line,  line  upon  line,  here  a  little  and 
there  a  Httle ;"  borrowing  a  history  of  one,  buying  a  grammar  of 
another;  reading  in  kitchen  corners;  studying  in  log-cabins  by 
pine-knot  light,  and  on  horseback  through  the  woods ;  holding  to 
the  course  perseveringly,  steadily,  calmly,  unwaveringly ;  following 
the  path  which  opens ;  doing  the  work  which  offers ;  until  the  day 
be  pa^t,  ar.d  "  Well  done"  be  spoken  by  the  all-observant  Master. 


THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 


Now  when  they  saw  the  boldness  of  Peter  and  John,  and  perceived  that 
they  were  unlearned  and  ignorant  men,  they  marvelled  ;  and  they  took 
knowledge  of  them  that  they  had  been  with  Jesus." 


America  has  always  had  its  frontier  country,  and  the  American 
pulpit  its  pioneer  preachers.  A  long  future  will  be  like  the  past. 
Until  the  tide  of  civilization  shall  reach  its  Pacific  limit,  there  will 
be  the  axe,  the  rifle,  the  saddle-bags,  and  the  stump :  there  will 
be  a  strip  of  country  on  which  the  day  of  civilization  is  dawning. 
Our  volume  would  be  incomplete  did  it  not  discuss,  somewhat  at 
length,  this  anomaly  to  the  Old  World,  and  this  characteristic  of  the 
New — the  pioneer  preacher. 

Passing  by  the  honored  names  and  gi'eat  work  of  Elliott,  Brai- 
nerd,  and  others,  as  belonging  to  a  past  beyond  our  prescribed 
limits,  we  shall  treat  of  the  pioneer  movements  of  the  Methodists, 
omitting  also  desirable  mention  of  the  important  doings  of  other  de- 
nominations on  the  Western  frontier,  the  Baptists,  Presbyterians, 
and  Congregationalists,  as  having  received  more  attention  from  the 
historian,  and  as  being,  perhaps,  less  distinctive,  characteristic,  and 
universal. 

Of  the  Methodists,  we  have  selected  the  name  of  John  P.  Durbin 
to  introduce  this  chapter  ;  not  because  he  is  esteemed  the  most  re- 
markable pioneer  preacher  of  the  century,  but  because,  of  the  Meth- 
odist preachers,  who  have  served  in  the  frontier  campaign,  and  who 
are,  at  this  present,  of  active  and  prominent  influence  in  the  church, 
he  is  esteemed  the  most  desirable  representative. 

In  order  that  the  Methodism  of  the  West  may  be  properly  pre- 


CHRISTIAN   FREDERICK    TOST. 


101 


Bented  to  tlie  intelligence  of  the  reader,  it  will  be  well  to  outline  the 
prominent  features  of  the  last  third  of  the  preceding  century  * 

The  defeat  of  the  English  before  Fort  Duquesne,  under  the  ill- 
fated  Braddock,  in  ll55,  did  not  root  out  the  desire  to  wrest  that 
strong  position  from  the  French;  and  for  this  pui-pose  General 
Forbes  was  placed  at  the  head  of  an  expedition.  It  was  deemed, 
however,  essential  to  success  that  he  be  preceded  by  some  person 
with  gifts  adapted  to  win  the  minds  of  the  indomitable  inhabitants 
of  the  forest  from  the  cause  of  the  French  to  that  of  the  English. 

Christian  Frederick  Post,  a  Moravian  missionary,  was  selected 
for  this  hazardous  enterprise.  He  had  long  been  laboring  among 
the  tribe  of  the  Delawares,  in  Susquehanna,  and  had  acquired  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  Indian  language,  habits,  customs,  and  preju- 
dices. 

He  was  simple-hearted,  calm,  intrepid,  and  versed  in  the  perils  of 
savage  life.  Committing  himself  and  his  cause  into  the  hands  of  the 
Great  Master,  attended  by  a  small  band  of  friendly  savages,  he 
started  on  his  mission,  and  plunged  into  the  forest.  Omitting  mi- 
nute history,  suffice  it  to  say,  that  the  negotiation  was  eminently  suc- 
cessful. His  life  was  often  threatened,  and  his  escapes  marvellous ; 
but  he  succeeded  in  attaching  the  Indians  to  the  English,  and  in  re- 
turning safely  to  the  settlements.  The  fort  soon  fell,  and  the  Eng- 
lish arms  were  crowned  with  triumph. 

After  the  close  of  the  war  in  1T61,  this  Moravian  missionary  re- 
turned to  labor  among  the  Indians  with  whom  he  had  negotiated; 
crossing  the  Alleghany  river,  and  settling  upon  the  Muskingum, 
in  what  is  now  the  State  of  Ohio.  The  Indians  were  of  the  Dela- 
ware tribe,  with  whose  brethren  he  had  before  lived,  and  with  whose 
language  he  was  familiar.  Having  taken  possession  of  some  ground 
allotted  him,  he  began  to  build  a  cabin  for  the  double  purpose  of  a 
home  and  school-house.     But  as  he  commenced  clearing  the  land  of 


*  We  are  indebted  to  the  interesting  unpublished  "Lowell  Lectures"  of  Mr. 
Milburn,  entitled,  "Sketches  of  the  Early  History  and  Settlement  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi Valley,"  for  the  warp  of  the  following  chapter ;  but  since  in  weaving  the 
pattern,  some  threads  of  our  own  have  been  wrought  in  the  woof,  we  can  only 
give  credit  in  t'  is  general  way. 


102  THE   PIONEER   PREACHES. 

its  native  timber,  tlie  Indians  inquired  Lis  purj)Ose ;  and  on  his  an- 
swering tliat  lie  must  live,  and  to  live  lie  must  have  a  cabin  and  a 
cleared  spot  to  raise  corn,  they  said :  "  Nay,  not  so ;  the  French 
priests,  who  have  been  our  teachers,  are  fat  and  comely,  but  they 
raise  no  corn.  If  you  be  the  servant  of  God,  He  will  feed  you  as  He 
fed  them.  You  need  not  to  sow  and  reap.  K  you  have  land,  the 
pale  faces  will  come  and  take  land  beside  you.  They  will  build  a 
fort  J  they  will  cut  down  our  forests,  and  seize  our  hunting-grounds, 
and  we  shall  be  driven  towards  the  setting  sun." 

The  Indian  logic  was  irresistible,  and  so  Christian  Frederick  Post 
only  built  his  cabin,  and  trusted  God  for  his  corn.  The  memorable 
Heckewelder  was  his  worthy  colaborer ;  but  the  Pontiac  war  break- 
ing out  the  following  year,  the  two  missionaries,  warned  of  danger 
by  the  faithful  children  of  the  forest,  returned  east  of  the  moun- 
tains, remained  six  years,  and  then  went  back  to  the  Indians,  estab- 
lishing the  noted  settlement  of  Schonbrunn  (beautiful  spring),  which, 
at  the  commencement  of  the  Revolution,  was  the  only  Christian  set- 
tlement west  of  the  Alleghanies,  except  those  of  the  Jesuits  and 
other  Catholic  missionaries  in  Illinois  and  Louisiana.  Thus  planted 
and  fostered  by  these  pious,  holy,  and  devout  Moravian  brethren, 
many  an  Indian  heart  was  won  to  the  cause  of  Christ  by  their  la- 
bors, their  patience,  and  their  constancy.  Flourishing  missionary 
stations  were  established  around  this,  as  the  centre,  and  peacefully 
and  rapidly  were  the  Delaware  Indians  being  converted  to  Christi- 
anity and  civilization. 

When  the  Revolutionary  War  broke  out,  unfortunately  but  in- 
evitably, these  missionary  stations  were  on  the  frontier  between  the 
Whites  and  the  Indians.  The  Wyandots  and  Shawnees,  the  hostile 
tribes  of  the  Northwest,  in  making  incursions  throughout  the  bor- 
ders of  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  must  needs  pass  through  thes<! 
Christian  settlements ;  and  the  whites,  in  their  avenging  expeditions, 
must  also  take  the  Moravian  Indians  in  the  route.  This  only  re 
suited  in  their  good  treatment  by  both  parties ;  but  the  British  at . 
Detroit  determined,  at  last,  that  they  must  be  broken  up,  and  re 
moved  to  the  neighborhood  of  Sandusky.  They  were  loath  to 
leave  their  homes,  their  maize-fields,  their  school-cabins,  and  the 


THE    MASSACRE.  103 

graves  of  their  fathers ;  but  they  were  forced  to  go.  Carried  off  be- 
fore their  corn  was  harvested,  unprovided  Tvith  suitable  shelter  and 
suflBcient  food,  during  the  severe  and  long  winter  of  1 781-82,  nearly- 
one  hundred  of  them  perished  of  cold  and  starvation ;  and  in  the 
spring  the  remainder  resolved  to  return,  and  at  least  gather  in  the 
maize  which  was  yet  standing  in  their  fields.  It  happened  that  a 
company  of  ninety  whites,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  William- 
son, had  resolved  on  an  excursion  into  the  Indian  territory,  to  pun- 
ish the  AVyandots  for  their  outrages ;  and  after  two  or  three  days 
march  from  Fort  Pitt,  now  Pittsburg,  they  gained  the  peaceful  set- 
tlements of  these  Moranan  Indians.  They  found  them  scattered 
through  the  fields — men,  women,  and  children — gathering  in  the 
corn.  They  were  received  courteously  and  even  cordially,  and  in- 
vited to  partake  of  food  and  rest.  The  whites  told  them  that  they 
had  come  on  a  peaceful  errand  to  take  them  to  Fort  Pitt. 

It  happened  that  some  of  the  Indians  had  been  there  the  pre\'ious 
year,  and  had  been  treated  with  remarkable  kindness  by  the  com- 
mandant of  the  fort.  The  plan  therefore  impressed  them  favorably ; 
and  in  accordance  with  the  desire  of  the  whites,  they  gathered  to- 
gether from  the  fields,  within  a  circuit  of  four  or  five  miles,  for 
friendly  conference.  "When  they  were  all  collected  in  one  place, 
unarmed  and  inofi'ensive,  they  were  put  under  arrest  and  guard,  and 
the  question  was  proposed  by  Colonel  Williamson  to  his  men  :  Shall 
these  Indians  be  marched  to  Pittsburg,  or  be  put  to  death  ?  The 
soldiers  were  standing  in  rank,  and  the  vote  was  put.  "  All  in  favor  of 
life  step  out  two  paces  in  front,"  was  the  word.  Sixteen  out  of  ninety 
advanced.  The  motion  was  lost.  The  Indians  were  doomed  to  death. 
Their  fate  was  announced  to  them,  that  with  the  morrow's  dawn 
they  must  all  die.  Trusting,  simple-minded  people,  they  begged  for 
life ;  but  their  prayers  were  unheeded,  except  by  Him  whose  ear  is 
always  open.  The  wailings  of  women  and  children  were  lost  on  the 
vindictive  soldiery.  All  night  they  spent  either  in  pleadings  with 
their  captors,  or  in  prayers  to  God.  But  when  the  sun  rose  they 
were  led  forth,  and  laid  on  blocks  previously  prepared.  Five  and 
thirty  men,  four  and  thirty  women,  and  four  and  forty  children, 
were  in  succession  butchered.     The  blood  runs  cold  at  the  memory 


104  THE   PIONEER   PREACHER. 

of  that  deed,  the  most  atrocious  ever  perpetrated  by  the  Anglo- 
Saxon.  But  God  the  Almighty  slumbereth  not:  "Vengeance  is 
mine,  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord."  The  next  year  this  same  band 
fitted  out  another  expedition  for  exterminating  the  Indians,  in  com- 
pany with  four  hundred  others. 

They  went  forth  to  burn,  lay  waste,  and  butcher ;  but  they  were 
entrapped,  defeated,  scattered,  and  almost  the  entire  company  were 
either  burned  alive,  tomahawked,  or  lost  in  the  wilderness. 

These  Moravian  brethren  were  the  first  to  bring  the  AVord  of  Life 
into  the  boundless  regions  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  (excepting,  of 
course,  the  old  Jesuit  fathers  and  Catholic  missionaries  who  came 
with  the  French)  ;  and  a  few  of  their  converts  survived,  and  till  this 
day  a  small  remnant  of  Moravian  Indians  and  Whites  are  to  be  found 
in  the  eastern  part  of  Ohio. 

Turning  now  to  the  frontier  country  south  of  the  Ohio,  and  we 
find  that  the  earliest  Christian  pioneers  coming  into  Kentucky  on 
the  first  wave  of  population,  were  of  the  Baptist  denomination,  a 
large  and  influential  body  in  Virginia  and  North  Carolina,  whence 
the  greater  part  of  emigration  to  Kentucky  originated ;  and  whilst 
there  were  but  few  regular  preachers  who  came  with  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  preaching,  there  were  many  who  came  to  get  farms  and  es- 
tablish estates,  and  who  were  also  licensed  to  preach  and  to  admin- 
ister the  sacraments. 

These  were  not  long  after  followed  by  Presbyterian  missionaries, 
devoted  exclusively  to  preaching  the  Gospel,  and  supported  at  the 
East.  Both  the  Baptists  and  Presbyterians  accomplished  a  noble 
work,  but  of  these  we  do  not  design  to  speak.  Indeed,  there  is  less 
occasion,  as  faithful  historians  have  already  written  their  worthy 
story.  We  come  at  last  to  the  Methodists,  to  whom  our  attention 
will  be  confined. 

The  Methodist  is  a  younger  Church.  Its  first  regular  preachers 
landed  in  America  in  1770.  Only  fourteen  years  after  the  first 
Methodist  preacher  had  touched  foot  on  this  continent,  they  were 
•penetrating  the  wilds  of  the  Far  AVest,  and  \4siting  the  outmost 
points  of  advancing  civilization.  James  Haw  first  crossed  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  and  others  rapidly  followed. 


RELIGIOUS    ANTAGONISM.  105 

At  the  outset  there  was  much  antagonism  between  the  different 
denominations  in  the  West.  A  sort  of  rehgious  pugilism  was  in 
vogue,  which,  indeed,  is  not  yet  altogether  passed  away.  There  is 
a  kind  of  courage  and  grit  about  western  or  pioneer  people,  which 
insists  on  scuffling  and  grappling — a  pugnacious  attitude,  which 
manifests  itself  through  all  varieties  of  life.  The  pioneer  clergy 
were  not  free  from  it.  They  were,  hence,  adept  controversialists,  and 
a  great  din  was  kept  up  about  Baptism  and  Pedo-Baptism,  Free 
Grace  and  Destiny,  Falling  from  Grace  and  Perseverance  of  the 
Saints,  &c.,  &c.  Brethren  of  the  different  denominations  often  had 
their  public  discussions.  One  would  challenge  his  brother  of  another 
faith,  and  meeting  together  before  the  people,  occupying  a  tempo- 
rary rostrum  in  some  grove,  would  debate  the  doctrines  in  which 
they  disagreed.  These  discussions  were  conducted  with  due  form 
and  ceremony.  A  moderator  was  chosen,  a  committee  of  decision 
selected,  the  order  of  speaking  determined,  time  specified,  and  all 
preliminaries  having  been  satisfactorily  settled,  the  combatants  would 
discuss,  defend,  treat  and  maltreat  the  unfortunate  doctrines,  to  the 
eminent  edification  of  the  interested  audience ;  and  finally,  hke  most 
disputants,  sliding  from  general  principles  into  sharp  repartees  and 
telhng  personahties,  would  oftentimes  contribute  to  the  infinite  enter- 
tainment of  the  assemblage. 

Nevertheless,  the  people  during  twenty  years  were,  for  the  most 
part,  quite  insensible  to  religious  matters.  Absorbed  by  Indian 
wars,  by  the  settlement  of  a  new  country  and  the  inexorable  demands 
of  a  frontier  livelihood,  and  French  infidelity  having  come  in  with 
French  politics,  many  sank,  from  apathy  concerning  Christianity,  into 
cold  deism  or  reckless  atheism.  Many  of  the  principal  citizens  of  the 
"West  were  not  ashamed  to  avow  themselves  skeptics  and  infidels, 
and  therefore  the  field  of  the  missionary  was  hard  to  till. 

In  order  that  essential  progress  be  made  in  rooting  out  error  and 
clearing  away  the  weeds  of  infidelity,  it  was  necessary  that  the 
champions  of  the  truth  should  merge  all  minor  differences  into  the 
one  common  cause  of  the  one  great  Head  of  the  Church.  There- 
fore, towards  the  close  of  the  last  century,  the  Presbyterians  and  the 
Methodists  united  their  efforts  and  worked  with  mutual  understanding 


106  THE    PIONEER    rEEACIIEE. 

and  harmony.  In  the  southern  part  of  Kentucky  they  held  union 
meetinors  and  sacramental  services,  at  which  ministers  of  both 
denominations  ofl5ciated  as  true  yokefellows,  and  the  result  was  that 
an  unusual  interest  in  the  subject  of  rehgion  began  to  pervade  the 
community ;  and  in  the  spring  of  1800  occurred  "  the  great  revival," 
as  it  is  termed,  or  "  the  Cumberland  renval,"  the  most  extraordinary 
manifestation  of  religious  excitement  that  ever  happened  on  this 
continent,  or  perhaps  ever  happened  in  the  history  of  the  Church 
since  the  day  of  Pentecost. 

It  burst  forth  with  irresistible  power  at  what  was  called  a  "  sacra- 
mental meeting,"  or  a  "  protracted  meeting "  of  several  days,  held 
at  Cane  Ridge,  Kentucky,  sustained  by  the  Methodist  and  Presby- 
terian ministers  in  union.  This  meeting  had  been  preceded  by 
many  of  the  same  kind,  held  in  various  parts  of  that  region  of 
country,  the  size  and  interest  of  which  steadily  increased  with  every 
repetition.  At  tliis  one  the  collection  of  people  was  immense.  It 
is  credibly  stated  that  thirty  thousand  were  on  the  camp-ground  at 
one  time ;  which  seems  the  more  remarkable  when  we  consider  the 
sparsely  settled  character  of  the  countiy. 

Of  course,  provision  for  the  sustenance  and  lodging  of  such  a 
multitude  for  days  in  succession  could  not  be  provided  by  any  one 
settlement  of  a  new  country,  and  hence  the  people  came  in  famihes 
and  companies,  as  of  old  the  Jews  went  up  to  tlie  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
with  horse-teams  and  ox-teams,  carrying  with  them  provisions, 
jerked  meat  and  corn-dodger,  cooking  utensils,  bedding,  and  tents. 
And  hence  we  see  that  from  the  necessities  of  a  new  country  arose 
the  peculiar  form  of  religious  meetings,  so  popular  with  the  Metho- 
dists, called  "  camp  meetings."  The  inhabitants,  scattered  through 
the  partially  cleared  forests  or  open  prairies  of  the  West,  without 
church  buildings  or  established  pastors;  their  minds  untrained  to 
thought,  yet  highly  susceptible  to  sympathetic  influences;  their 
attention  for  the  greater  part  of  the  year  engrossed  by  the  inexorable 
necessities  of  getting  a  livelihood,  it  is  evident  that  their  religious 
nature  only  could  be  reached  through  the  combined  influences  of 
sympathy,  exclusive  attention,  popular  oratory,  and  special  excite- 
ment.    And  these  camp  meetings  were  not  the  device  of  ingenious 


THE   JERKS."  ^^'^ 


men  to  compass  a  desired  end.  They  were  the  natural  growth  of  a 
new  comitry,  springing  up  spontaneously  like  prairie  flowers  from 
virgin  soil.  But  at  this  meeting  which  we  have  introduced  to  tho 
attention  of  the  reader,  this  remarkable  gathering  of  thirty^  thou- 
sand, a  new  development  appeared,  so  wonderful  and  mystenous  as 
to  be  incredible,  were  it  not  vouched  for  by  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  worthy  witnesses. 

Previous  to  this  gathering  at  meetings  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  there  had  appeared  the  most  remarkable  physical  mani- 
festations, which  went  under  the  expressive  name  of  "the  jerks." 
The  people  were  seized  as  by  a  sort  of  superhuman  power ;  all  con- 
trol of  the  will  over  the  muscular  system  seemed  taken  away;  in 
many  cases  the  senses  refused  to  perform  their  functions,  and  the 
usual  methods  of  manifesting  consciousness  were  annulled.     Strong 
men  would  suddenly  fall  to  the  earth  utterly  helpless,  or  would  be 
tossed  and  thrown  about  in  aU  positions  and  attitudes.   Women  would 
be  taken  with  a  strong  spasmodic  motion,  and  while  standmg  on 
their  feet  would  be  swayed  back  and  forth,  striking  the  back  to 
the  ground,  and  then,  without  the  bending  of  joints,  thrown  over 
on  to  their  faces,  and  so  swing  forward  and  back  with  strange  regu- 
larity and  rapidity.     Indeed,  it  is  stated   by  many  eye-witnesses, 
in  some   cases  so  resistless  and   rapid  was  this  motion,  that  the 
long  hair  of  the  women  (which,  in  anticipation  of  the  expenence, 
thev  had  let  down  and  fastened  in  a  knot  at  the  end)  would  whiz 
through  the  air  and  strike  the  floor,  so  as  to  resemble  in  sound  the 
crack  of  a  teamster's  whip,  capable  of  being  heard,  it  was  presumed, 
in  some  notable  instances,  at  the  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
Men  would  be  forced  over  the  ground  in  a  rotatory  motion,  their 
limbs  forming  the  four  spokes  (so  to  speak)  of  an  animated  wheel; 
and  though  sometimes  able  to  stop  themselves  by  clinging  to  trees 
or  shrubs,  yet  m  some  instances  even  unable  to  do  this,  and  only 
secured  by  the  help  of  friends. 

These  remarkable  manifestations  excited,  of  course,  the  intense 
curiosity  and  interest  of  the  whole  country,  and  resulted  in  the 
thronging  of  the  entire  community  to  these  "  sacramental  meetings," 
in  order  to  be  eye-witnesses,  or  possibly  actual  performers  of  these 


108  THE    riONEER   PEEACUEE. 

mysterious  "jerks."  This  accounts  for  the  immense  gathering  of 
thirty  thousand  people  at  the  Cane  Ridge  meeting,  to  which  many 
had  come  fifty,  one  hundred,  and  even  three  hundred  miles,  or 
nearly  a  ten  days'  journey. 

The  chief  man,  or  presiding  ofl5cer  of  this  Cane  Ridge  convocation, 
was  Barton  TV.  Stone,  a  leading  Presbyterian  minister  and  preacher 
at  the  Concord  and  Cane  Ridge  meeting-house,  who  afterwards  be- 
came renowned  in  the  ecclesiastical  annals  of  the  West,  as  the  father 
and  head  of  the  "  New  Lights,"  one  part  of  which  became  absorbed 
in  the  sect  now  called  "  Christian,"  and  the  remainder  became  fol- 
lowers of  Alexander  Campbell,  and  are  at  present  included  among 
the  "  Campbellites."  There  were  also  collected  ten  or  a  dozen  other 
preachers,  of  different  denominations,  and  from  various  parts  of  the 
country,  most  of  whom  were  holding  forth  from  the  temporary 
stands  for  preaching,  or  elevated  on  huge  stumps  or  fallen  logs,  each 
surrounded  by  his  audience  of  eager  listeners.  Among  the  Metho- 
dist preachers  present  was  William  Burke,  a  man  of  mark  in  his  de- 
nomination. He  was  a  person  of  stalwart  frame  and  commanding- 
presence,  and  possessed  of  a  voice  that  rather  thundered  than  spoke — 
a  voice  that  in  a  still  day  could  be  heard  for  miles,  unequalled  for 
its  tremendous  volume.  Burke  was  an  orator,  and  a  favorite  with 
his  sect ;  and  having  come  to  this  great  meeting,  he  and  his  friends 
expected  that  he  would  be  one  of  the  principal  speakers.  He  ar- 
rived on  the  ground  on  Friday  night,  but  up  to  Saturday  night  had 
not  been  invited  to  preach  hj  the  presiding  leader.  His  friends  be- 
gan eagerly  to  ask  if  he  were  not  to  speak  ;  and  he  replied  that  he 
was  ready  to  do  so  when  invited.  Sunday  morning,  Stone,  in  com- 
pany with  one  or  two  of  his  Presbyterian  brethren,  called  upon  him, 
and  introducing  the  subject  of  his  preaching,  asked  some  question 
about  his  theological  views,  as  if  intending  to  test  his  orthodoxy  as  a 
prerequisite  to  an  invitation.  This  fired  brother  Burke's  blood ;  and 
he,  referring  in  proud  tones  to  the  wide-spread  expression  of  his  sen- 
timents as  a  prominent  preacher,  said  almost  with  fierceness  :  "  If 
you  want  to  know  my  sentiments,  come  and  hear  me  preach ;"  and 
stalking  away  from  the  little  knot  of  divines,  sought  a  follen  log, 
which  he  mounted,  and  began  to  read  a  hymn.     The  news  spread 


EEMAEKABLE   EXCITEMENT.  109 

like  wild-fire  that  Burke  was  holding  forth  ;  and  the  people — men, 
women,  and  children — thronged  to  the  spot.  In  a  short  time  ten 
thousand  persons  were  his  audience ;  and  then  rose  his  voice  with  a 
power  beyond  all  previous  eftbrts,  swelling  over  the  assembled  mul- 
titudes with  indescribable  effect.  But  ere  that  sermon  was  com- 
pleted, the  voice,  powerful  as  it  was,  and  of  accumulated  power  as  it 
progressed,  was  but  a  whisper  amidst  the  uproar  that  encompassed 
it  from  the  thronging  multitudes,  "  like  the  sound  of  many  waters." 
The  supernatural  agency  was  present  beyond  all  precedent ;  and  it 
seemed  to  seize  in  its  mysterious  grasp  the  entire  multitude.  As 
they  stood  about  the  stand  listening  to  the  preacher,  they  would  be 
swept  down,  five  hundred  at  a  time,  like  trees  in  a  forest,  pros- 
trated in  the  fearful  pathway  of  a  tornado,  and  lie  senseless ;  others 
would  be  tossed  and  whirled  about  in  wild  convulsions;  others 
would  perform  gyratory  motions ;  and  all  this,  intermingled  with 
Hallelujahs,  and  shouts  of  "Amen,"  "Glory,"  "Glory,"  "Come, 
Lord,"  presented  a  scene  of  excitement  beyond  compare  in  the  an- 
nals of  religious  enthusiasm.  And  it  was  not  the  religious  people, 
the  members  of  the  Church,  who  alone  were  seized  with  these  mo- 
tions. Those  who  came  to  scofi"  and  ridicule  were  seized  equally 
with  the  rest.  Indeed,  the  severest  convulsions,  contortions,  and  in- 
sensible prostrations,  were  experienced  only  by  the  scoffers,  the  pro- 
faners,  and  blasphemers.  A  perfectly  authenticated  story  is  told  ol 
one  man  who,  present  at  this  meeting,  and  believing  the  whole  thing 
to  be  either  a  delusion  or  a  trick,  determined  to  put  a  stop  to  it. 
There  was  one  collection  on  the  ground  called  "  The  Praying  Cir- 
cle," made  up  of  a  ring  of  five  hundred  people,  surrounding  a  large 
group  of  persons  praying,  shouting,  crying,  and  tossed  about  by  the 
convulsions,  all  in  the  most  heterogeneous  state  conceivable.  This 
man  determined  to  break  up  this  circle.  So  galloping  dowm  his 
powerful  horse  towards  it  across  the  field,  and  yelling  like  a  demon, 
he  bent  his  energies  to  riding  through  and  scattering  the  throng. 
But  as  he  neared  the  outer  circle,  he  suddenly  dropped  senseless 
from  his  horse,  and  lay  extended  on  the  ground.  There  he  con- 
tinued for  thirty  hours,  apparently  free  from  pain,  his  pulse  ranging 
about  forty,  when  he  aroused  and  recovered.     He  said  that  he  had 


110  THE    PIONEER    rilEACHER. 

been  conscious  all  this  time  of  -what  was  said  and  done  about  bim, 
but  that  he  was  held  by  an  irresistible  power,  which  prevented  mo- 
tion or  expression.  Such  is  a  faithful  description  of  "the  jerks," 
gathered  from  eye-witnesses ;  a  manifestation  which  has  baffled  all 
physiological  or  psychological  explanations,  and  which  continued 
for  several  years,  extending  throughout  most  of  the  West,  and  con- 
stituting the  marked  feature  of  the  "  Great  Revival." 

The  result  of  this  movement  was  the  wide-spread  overthrow  of 
infidelity ;  but  as  the  Church  flourished  by  its  victories,  the  rank 
weeds  of  prosperity,  rivalries,  heart-burnings,  and  divisions  arose. 
The  Baptist,  as  well  as  the  Methodist  and  Presbyterian  denomina- 
tions, had  largely  participated  in  the  movement ;  and  these  sects, 
after  the  religious  fever  had  subsided,  became  not  only  jealous  of  each 
other,  as  the  fmits  of  the  revival  were  being  garnered,  but  became 
also  divided  among  themselves.  These  rifts  seemed  the  ine\ntable 
fruit,  not  of  the  faults,  but  of  the  virtues  of  the  new  converts. 
Reared  in  all  the  independence  of  a  frontier  life,  with  its  contempt 
of  formalities  and  its  impatience  of  constraint ;  livnng  much  in  the 
society  of  nature  with  its  inspiration  to  reflection,  to  freedom,  to  self- 
reliance,  and  to  faith  in  impulses  ;  unaccustomed  to  think,  except  to 
some  practical  and  immediate  end,  and  hence  trained  to  embody 
all  theories  resulting  from  speculation  in  the  substantial  form  of 
action ;  and  uniting  with  these  traits,  the  recklessness  of  conse- 
quences, and  the  unconquerable  decision  of  pioneer  men,  it  was  a 
matter  of  necessity  that  the  new  converts  should  blossom  out  all 
varieties  of  religious  notions,  to  mature  into  the  unhappy  fruits  of 
divisions  and  fanaticisms.  Quite  a  number  became  Shakers,  a  sect 
who  ignore  the  ties  of  kindred,  deny  the  liberty  of  wedlock  to  the 
children  of  God,  and  fulfil  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary  by  monot- 
onous chants,  ungraceful  dances,  and  bodily  revolutions  and  evolu- 
tions, which  are  a  tame  imitation  of  "  the  jerks."  One  man  set  him- 
self up  for  a  leader  or  prophet,  gathered  about  him  a  band  whom 
he  styled  the  twelve  Apostles,  set  out  westward  in  search  of  the 
Holy  Land,  and  died  of  destitution  on  an  island  in  the  Mississippi. 
Another  professed  to  hold  converse  with  spirits,  not  in  the  vulgar 
style   of   modern   table-rappings,   but    directly   and    immediately. 


THE  preacher's  RECOMPENSE.  Ill 

Another  worked  out  his  reflections  to  the  conclusion  that  he  could 
live  without  food,  that  faith  would  save  him  from  starvation,  ac- 
cording to  the  command  of  Christ,  "Take  no  thought  for  the 
mon-ow,  what  ye  shall  eat  or  what  ye  shall  drink.  Consider  the 
fowls  of  the  air,  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin,  and  yet  your 
heavenly  Father  feedeth  them;"  and  faithful  to  his  theory,  he  held  on 
to  the  last  and  died  of  hunger,  which  brought  his  sect  also  to  an 
untimely  end.  But  it  were  needless  to  continue  description,  or  even 
to  enumerate  the  new  parties,  such  as  the  Hard  Shell  Baptists  and 
the  Soft  Shells,  the  New  Lights,  the  Cumberland  Presbyterians, 

&c.,  &c. 

Rather,  in  conclusion,  let  us  adopt  the  testimony  of  those  many 
witnesses  who,  now  old,  wise  and  godly  men,  and  having  for  fifty- 
five  years  watched  with  religious  fideHty  the  results  of  the  great 
revival,  assure  us  that  its  good  fruits  are  incalculable,  in  compari- 
son with  which  its  evil  sinks  into  insignificance. 

The  ministers  of  the  Methodist  Church  assume  the  position,  re- 
sponsibility, and  duties  of  the  calling  under  the  impulse  and  belief 
that  they,  each  and  every  one,  are  specially  called,  designated,  and 
sent  forth  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of  truth  and  power  to  be  ambassadors 
of  Jesus  Christ.  The  conference  might  decide,  by  consideration  of 
gifts  and  graces,  according  to  their  best  belief  and  conviction, 
whether  it  be  a  real  or  a  spurious  "  call,"  and  if  their  opinion  coin- 
cided with  the  convection  of  the  individual,  he  was  set  apart  for  the 
sacred  office  of  the  ministry.  At  the  time  to  which  we  refer,  the 
office  was  no  sinecure.  His  field  of  labor  was  the  world;  his  par- 
ticular station  determined  by  the  Church,  in  conference  represented ; 
his  annual  salary,  sixty-four  dollars,  according  to  the  Book  of  Disci- 
phne.  And  this  was  to  include  the  presents  which  he  might  re- 
ceive. If  any  grateful  sister  should  knit  for  him  a  pair  of  woollen 
socks,  an  expression  of  the  warmth  of  her  regard,  it  must  be  re- 
ported to  the  conference,  a  price  set  upon  it,  and  the  sum  deducted 
fi-om  the  sixty-four  dollars.  And  so,  whatever  was  received,  from 
whatever  source,  was  to  be  deducted  from  the  prescribed  salary ; 
and  if,  as  sometimes  happened,  the  yearly  presents  from  marriage 
fees  or  otherwise  amounted  to  more  than  sixty-four  dollars,  the  sur- 


112  THE   PIONEER   PREACHEE. 

plus  was  handed  over  to  the  Church,  to  be  paid  to  some  less  fortu- 
nate brother.  They  must  also  provide  themselves  with  a  horse,  rid- 
ing saddle,  wearing  apparel,  and  necessary  books,  with  no  outfit 
allowance  from  the  Chm-ch ;  and  west  of  the  mountains  many  were 
the  preachers  who  never  realized,  either  in  legal  coin  or  in  presents, 
even  the  stipulated  sixty-four  dollars.  Nothing  more  was  allowed  a 
man  with  a  wife  than  without  one,  for  it  was  understood  in  the 
primitive  Methodist  Church  that  a  preacher  had  no  business  with  a 
wife,  and  was  much  better  without  than  with  one.  John  Wesley 
had  such  an  unfortunate  experience  in  wifedom,  that  he  discouraged 
marrying :  Francis  Asbury,  the  master  genius  of  Methodism  in  this 
country,  was  so  devoted  to  his  work  that  he  discountenanced  matri- 
mony as  a  hindrance.  He  once  said  that  he  never  married,  because 
he  never  could  find  a  woman  who  had  grace  enough  in  her  heart  to 
be  willing  to  be  separated  from  her  husband,  the  year  round,  with 
the  exception  of  one  week ;  and  if  he  could  find  one  so  good,  he 
would  not  marry  her,  for  he  had  not  grace  enough  to  be  happy  away 
from  her.  Nevertheless,  he  insisted  that  it  was  the  business  of  every 
man  to  support  one  woman.  He  therefore  gave  the  larger  part  of 
his  income  to  the  maintenance  of  a  distant  cousin  in  England,  and 
after  her  death  to  some  other  female.  But  he  never  approached 
nearer  than  this  to  the  countenancing  of  matrimony.  When  one  of 
the  young  brethren  was  so  rash  or  unfortunate  as  to  become  en- 
tangled in  the  bonds  of  wedlock,  there  was  a  tacit  understanding 
that  he  had  better  "  locate,"  in  the  language  of  the  Church,  that  is, 
retire  from  itinerant  labor,  settle  down  to  some  self-supporting  occu- 
pation, preach  in  one  place,  and  no  more  draw  on  the  funds  of  the 
conference. 

As  we  see,  small  were  the  worldly  inducements  to  enter  the 
ministry.  Besides  the  meager  support  and  the  single  life,  they 
were  to  encounter  a  wilderness ;  to  fiice  perils ;  to  endure  want, 
weariness,  unkindness,  cold,  and  hunger ;  to  hear  the  crack  of  the 
Indian  rifle  from  the  adjoining  thicket,  feel  the  ball  whizzing  past 
the  ear,  or  perhaps  fall  by  the  unerring  shot :  but  if  their  lives  were 
spared  by  the  guardian  care  of  a  kind  Providence,  and  by  God's 
special  interpositions,  the  bare  earth,  in  winter  and  summer,  was  to 


113 

be  their  bed ;  three-fourths  of  their  time,  the  saddle  their  pillow,  the 
sky  their  tent-cloth ;  and  oftentimes  when  making  a  preaching-cir- 
cuit, at  their  own  charge  and  cost,  on  applying  for  food  or  shelter, 
they  were  to  be  rudely  repulsed  by  a  member  of  another  denomina- 
tion, or  some  bitter  infidel ;  and  thus  to  go  forward,  year  after  year, 
with  no  provision  for  advancing  years,  but  faith  in  the  Master  who 
had  called  them ;  no  sunshine  of  affluence  to  light  the  pathway  of 
declining  life,  and  no  comforts  but  the  approval  of  conscience,  and 
the  indwelling  testimony  of  God's  Spirit.     It  is  manifest  that  one 
who  could  be  a  respectable  blacksmith,  carpenter,  mason,  or  farmer, 
would  not   enter  the   ministry,  unless   pressed  by  the   irresistible 
"call;"  and  that  those  who  did  consecrate  themselves  would  be 
men  of  nerve  and  men  of  power ;  for  they  were  not  men  "  of  educa- 
tion," in  the  popular  sense.     Their  book  knowledge  was  scanty,  but 
they  were  thorough  students  of  the  Bible,  and  they  were  mighty  in 
the  Hymn-book.     The  Bible  was  not  only  studied  on  horseback, 
but  read  daily  on  bended  knee,  in  the  shelter  of  a  thicket  or  in  the 
midst  of  the  wide  prairie.     The  preacher  on  rousing  from  his  night's 
slumbers  in  the  open  air,  as  the  first  rays  of  morning  sufi"used  the 
east  with  just  enough  fight  to  see  the  sacred  page,  was  accustomed 
always,  even  in  winter,  to  read  and  pray  before  saddling  his  horse 
or  breaking  bread.     Kneeling  there  on  the  snow,  he  committed 
himself  to  God's  care,  and  sought  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit ; 
and  he  could  scarcely  renew  his  journey  until  he  had  carefully  read 
three  or  four  chapters  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.     They  studied  the 
Hymn-book,  also,  almost  as  devoutly  and  constantly  as  the  Bible ; 
and  with  these  two  the  Methodist  preacher  felt  that  he  had  an  arse- 
nal from  which  he  could  draw  ammunition  for  any  emergency ;  and 
perhaps  he  was  not  far  from  right.     There  was,  however,  a  sort  of 
supplement  to  these  two  books,  a  third  volume,  which  they  carefully 
and  constantly  perused — the  ever-open  volume  of  Human  Nature. 
They  could  read  character  "  fike  a  book."     They  were  shrewd,  dis- 
cerning, keen-eyed  men,  who  detected  the  controlfing  motive  and  saw 
the  assailable  points  of  the  human  heart ;  and  could  be,  like  Paul, 
"  made  all  things  to  all  men,  that  they  might  by  all  means  save 


114:  THE   PIONEER   PREACHER. 

It  will  readily  be  inferred  from  this  analysis  what  was  their 
style  of  preaching.  They  were  earnest  preachers.  They  felt  that 
great  issues  were  at  stake.  Whether  there  was  a  congregation  of 
three  or  three  thousand  before  them,  the  same  pressure  of  respon- 
sibility rested  upon  their  hearts ;  for  they  saw  before  them  immortal 
men  and  women,  whose  eternal  destiny  was  to  be  decided  within 
this  brief  Hfe,  with  whom  they  might  never  meet  again.  And  they 
felt  that  the  "  blood  of  souls  "  would  be  found  on  their  skirts  if  they 
failed  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God.  And  they  were  men  of 
quick  sensibiMties  and  intense  emotion,  and  of  lively  fancy  and 
imagination.  Before  the  eye  of  faith  was  distinctly  pictured  the 
haven  of  rest,  repose,  and  joy,  which  was  to  succeed  the  life  of  weari- 
ness and  hardship  they  were  leading ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
dark,  unfathomable  abyss  of  perdition  was  a  revealed  reahty. 
Their  favorite  reading,  besides  the  Bible  and  Hymn-book,  were 
works  of  lofty  imagination.  Milton  and  Young  were  intimate  com- 
panions of  these  old  wayfarers.  Their  Miltonic  descriptions  of  per- 
dition abounded,  and  their  delineations  of  the  judgment-day,  with 
all  the  solemn  array  of  the  last  Assize,  were  terribly  graphic  in 
their  minuteness.  It  might  seem  to  us,  in  our  cold  and  calculating 
criticism,  as  if  their  descriptions  of  the  good  and  the  bad  savored 
too  much  of  a  topographical  character,  Hke  the  minute  descriptions 
by  travellers  of  sights  and  animals  in  foreign  countries.  But  not  so 
did  they  seem  to  their  hearers.  Many  of  these  were  ignorant,  cap- 
tious, hard,  cavilling  people,  fierce  in  their  contempt  of  every  thing 
like  lack  of  downright  earnestness,  or  rose-water  sentimentalism. 
Agreeable  metaphysical  disquisitions,  profoundly  elaborated  exegeses 
of  scripture  passages,  or  any  address  to  the  intellect  instead  of  to 
the  heart  through  the  imagination,  would  have  done  little  towards 
influencing  these  backwoodsmen  to  a  better  life.  The  di\dsion 
made  by  a  certain  prelate,  after  reading  his  text,  into — first,  its  topo- 
graphy, secondly  its  chronology,  and  thirdly  its  psychology,  would 
have  been  a  poor  start  to  make  before  those  people.  They  must  have 
plain,  practical  truth ;  and  these  firm-faithed,  single-hearted  Method- 
ists were  the  ones  to  give  it  to  them,  and  they  did  it  with  a  right 
good-wilL 


FRANCIS   ASBURY.  115 

It  was  a  strong,  fierce,  demonstrative  style  of  preaching.  Men  of 
inexhaustible  stamina  and  voice,  they  spoke  with  loud  tones  and 
with  the  whole  body.  Neither  did  they  shun  humor  in  the  pulpit. 
Those  who  had  the  gift,  and  many  of  them  had  it,  used  it  by  no 
means  sparingly,  and  with  unmistakable  efiect.  But  polished  and 
erudite  discourse  they  discarded.  With  no  library  but  what  they 
carried  in  their  pocket,  they  had  httle  opportunity  to  prepare  it, 
and  less  inclination.  But  to  illustrate,  to  interest,  to  admonish,  to 
reform,  to  win,  to  entreat  by  the  love  of  Christ,  "  Be  ye  reconciled 
to  God," — this  was  the  burden  of  their  preaching. 

We  now  turn  to  a  more  particular  consideration  of  some  of  the 
actors  in  these  scenes  among  the  Methodist  clergy. 

Of  all  Methodist  preachers.  Bishop  Asbury  stands  at  the  head,  if 
indeed  he  does  not  rank  first  in  importance,  of  all  American  preach- 
ers. With  full  appreciation  of  the  claims  of  Jonathan  Edwards, 
Dr.  Dwight,  Dr.  Channing,  and  all  the  other  eminent  clergy  of 
New  England,  we  are  free  to  say  that  Francis  Asbury,  the  first 
Methodist  Superintendent  and  Bishop  on  this  continent,  has  made 
probably  the  broadest- and  deepest  mark  in  our  ecclesiastical  history. 
For  forty  years  he  travelled  on  horseback  from  Maine  to  Virginia, 
and  from  Boston  Bay  to  the  Mississippi.  He  had  the  care  of  all 
the  churches.  He  was  constant  in  season  and  out  of  season,  not 
only  as  a  preacher,  but  indefatigably  stimulating  and  inspiring 
young  men  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  reclaiming  the  backsliding, 
bringing  incongruous  elements  into  working  accord,  and  consoh- 
dating  a  Church  which,  when  he  began  in  1111,  numbered  less  than 
fifty  members,  and  when  he  died  in  1816  numbered  one  million, 
scattered  from  Maine  to  Louisiana,  and  from  Florida  to  the  extreme 
northwest, — all  united  in  an  effective  and  prosperous  organization, 
a  Church  built  almost  absolutely  by  the  skill  of  this  one  man ;  by 
his  profound  wisdom,  his  untiring  eff"ort,  his  ceaseless  devotion ;  by 
the  constant  exercise  of  his  spirit,  brain,  heart,  and  body.  And  yet 
the  name  of  this  man,  who  did  so  much  for  the  erection  of  churches ; 
for  the  establishment  of  schools  and  colleges ;  for  the  diffusion  of 
sound  views  of  morals,  religion,  and  education,  and  the  presentation 
by  example  and  precept  of  the  loftiest  views  of  life — the  father  of 


116  THE    PIONEER   PKEACIIER. 

this  great  body  of  Christians,  which  includes  at  present  one-fifth 
part  of  the  population  of  the  United  States  in  its  congregations ; 
which  has  one-third  more  stated  preachers,  and  more  colleges  under 
its  care,  than  any  other  two  denominations  in  the  country, — the 
name  of  this  man,  Francis  Asbury,  does  not  appear  in  any  school- 
book  or  American  history,  to  our  knowledge.  Thus  is  it  that 
monuments  to  the  greatest  of  the  great  are  not  of  granite  nor  in 
type,  but  in  the  hearts  of  men. 

Asbury  was  surrounded  and  assisted,  as  all  leaders  are,  by  men 
much  akin  to  him,  inspired  with  his  spirit  and  devoted  to  his  plans. 
One  of  his  associates,  whom  he  trained  up  from  youth,  was  James 
Haxley,  a  famous  old  fellow  of  East  Tennessee.  Another  was  James 
Craven,  a  renowned  man  in  his  day.  These  old  preachers  were 
very  severe  against  whiskey  and  slavery.  Brother  Craven  was  once 
preaching  in  the  heart  of  Virginia,  and  spoke  as  follows :  "  Here 
are  a  great  many  professors  of  religion  to-day.  You  are  sleek,  fat, 
good-looking,  yet  something  is  the  matter  with  you.  Now,  you 
have  seen  wheat,  which  was  plump,  round,  and  good-looking  to  the 
eye,  but  when  you  weighed  it  you  found  it  only  came  to  forty-five 
or  perhaps  forty-eight  pounds  to  the  bushel,  when  it  should  be 
sixty  or  sixty-three  pounds.  Take  a  kernel  of  that  wheat  between 
your  thumb  and  finger,  hold  it  up,  squeeze  it,  and — pop  goes  the 
weevil.  Now  you  good-looking  professors  of  religion,  you  are  plump 
and  round,  but  you  only  weigh  some  forty-five  or  forty-six  pounds 
to  the  bushel.  What  is  the  matter  ?  Ah !  when  you  are  taken 
between  the  thumb  of  the  law  and  the  finger  of  the  gospel,  held  up 
to  the  light  and  squeezed,  out  pops  the  curly-head  and  the  whiskey- 
bottle." 

Old  Father  Haxley  on  one  occasion  preached  as  follows :  "  Ah 
yes,  you  sisters  here  at  church  look  as  sweet  and  smiling  as  if  you 
were  angels,  and  one  of  you  says  to  me,  '  Come  and  take  diunei 
with  me,  brother  Haxley,'  and  I  go ;  and  when  I  go,  you  say,  '  Sit 
down,  brother  Haxley,  a  while,  while  I  see  about  the  dinner ;'  and 
you  go  to  the  kitchen,  and  then  I  hear  somebody  cry  out,  '  Don't, 
missus!  don't,  missus!'  and  I  hear  the  sound  of  blows,  and  tho 
poor  girl  screaming,  and  tlie  lovely  sister  a  whalin'  and  trouucin' 


FATHER   IIAXLEY.  117 

Sallie  in  the  kitchen ;  and  when  she  has  got  through,  she  comes 
back,  looking  as  sweet  and  smiling  as  a  summer  day,  as  if  she  had 
just  come  from  saying  her  prayers.  That's  what  you  call  Christi- 
anity, is  it  ?" 

Brother  Haxley  was   sent  in    1806-Y    into  Attakepas   region, 
Louisiana,  as  a  missionary.     He  was  about  five  feet  eight  inches  in 
height,  strong  and  sinewy,  accustomed  to  all  forms  of  exposure  and 
sufiering.     Travelling  among  a  rude,  border  population,  many  of 
whom  were  French  Catholics,  he  had  not  much  to  expect  in  the 
way  of  comfort.     At  one  time,  out  of  money,  and  reduced  nearly  to 
starvation,  having  slept  for  several  nights  in  a  swamp,  he  came 
upon  a  plantation  house.    The  people  knew  hun  to  be  a  preacher  by 
his  coat,  and  they  wanted  no  such  persons  in  the  house.     The  old 
gentleman  entered,  and  asked  if  he  could  have  a  supper  and  night's 
lodging.     The  only  persons  present  were  a  widow  lady,  some  chil- 
dren, and  black  people.     "No,"  said  the  woman,  "you  cannot;  we 
don't  want  any  such  cattle  here."     Here  was  a  fair  prospect  of 
sleeping  another  night  in  the  cold.     Besides,  the  poor  man  had  had 
nothing  to  eat,  and  he  might  die  of  starvation.     He  thought  of  the 
sad  and  lonely  way,  and  of  the  perils  which  encompassed  it.     Then 
his  faith  lifted  his  thoughts  to  the  better,  brighter  world ;  he  thought 
of  heaven,  and  its  rest  and  reward  for  the  wayfarer ;  he  thought  of 
the  good  Father,  and  of  those  angels  which  were  sent  to  succor  and 
minister;  and  his  heart  began  to  fill  and  overflow  with  gladness ; 
and  in  the  enthusiasm  of  gratitude  and  love  and  faith,  his  voice,  of 
its  own  accord,  as  it  were,  burst  forth  into  singing— 

"  Peace,  troubled  soul,  thou  need'st  not  fear, 
Thy  great  Provider  Btill  is  near  : 
Who  fed  thee  last  will  feed  thee  still : 
Be  calm,  and  sink  into  His  will." 

But  he  would  not  stop  with  one  verse ;  he  sang  the  next,  and  so 
through  all  the  verses  of  the  hymn,  and  then  through  another 
hymn,  and  still  another.  He  was  a  fine  singer,  and  his  voice  had 
then  peculiar  sweetness  and  richness ;  and  as  he  looked  around,  at 
the  conclusic  n  of  the  third  hymn,  he  saw  that  the  womau,  the 


118  THE   PIONEER    PREACHER. 

children,  and  tlie  black  people  were  crowded  around  him,  and  the 
tears  were  flowing,  and  the  old  lady  shouted,  "  Pete,  put  up  the 
gentleman's  horse;  girls,  have  a  good  supper  for  the  preacher!" 
and  thus  the  good  man  was  lodged  and  fed  for  a  song.  Haxley  came 
to  Baltimore  to  attend  a  general  conference  in  1820.  A  discussion 
arose  on  a  question  of  order,  whether  presiding  elders  should  be 
elected  by  preachers  or  not,  and  the  dispute  had  waxed  waiTQ,  not 
to  say  hot.  Brother  Haxley  had  said  not  a  word  through  it  all,  but 
at  the  close  of  the  session,  the  bishop  called  upon  him  to  make  the 
concluding  prayer.  He  knelt  and  said,  "  Now,  0  Lord,  thou  know- 
est  what  a  time  we've  had  here,  discussing  and  arguing  about  this 
elder  question,  and  thou  knowest  what  our  feelings  are.  We  do 
not  care  what  becomes  of  the  ark,  it's  only  who  drives  the  oxen." 
Thus  did  these  men  strike  to  the  heart  of  things.  They  preached 
among  a  people  who  were  sharp  shooters,  who  would  drive  a  nail 
into  a  tree  with  a  rifle  ball  at  the  distance  of  fifty  yards,  and  they 
did  with  the  tongue  what  their  hearers  did  with  the  rifle — they  hit 
the  nail  on  the  head. 

Peter  Cartwright  was  another  of  those  preachers,  now  hWng  an 
old  man  in  Ilhnois.  One  incident  we  will  give  of  him.  In  common 
with  most  of  the  early  preachers,  he  was  a  strong  opponent  to 
slavery,  and  the  question  being  canvassed  in  Illinois  about  1822-3, 
whether  slavery  should  be  engrafted  on  the  constitution,  the  brave 
man  resolved  to  remove  to  Illinois  and  take  part  in  the  quarrel.  He 
had  been  preaching  in  Kentucky  and  Tennessee  for  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  but  he  received  an  appointment  as  Presiding  Elder  in 
Illinois,  and  had  a  district  fi'om  Galena  in  the  northwest,  to  Shawnee- 
town  in  the  south,  a  country  nearly  as  large  as  England.  This  he 
was  to  traverse  once  every  three  months,  and  never  failed  in  his 
appointments,  and  at  a  time  when  there  were  no  roads,  and  scarcely 
any  bridges  or  ferries. 

It  was  his  practice  to  preach  Saturday  morning  at  eleven  o'clock, 
hold  quarterly  conference  in  the  afternoon,  preach  in  the  evening ; 
hold  love-feast  Sunday  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  administer  bap- 
tism at  eleven,  then  preach  from  one  to  three  hours,  administer  the 
Lord's  Supper ;  preach  again  iu  the  evening  (at  all  convenient  inte- 


THE   FERRYMAN   BAPTIZED.  119 

nms  selling  books,  with  whicli  his  saddlebags  were  crammed) ;  and 
then  at  the  close  announce  that  on  the  next  day  he  would  address  his 
fellow-citizens  from  the  stump  on  the  admission  of  slavery  into  the 
State.  It  resulted,  of  course,  that  the  pro-slavery  men  became  very 
angry  at  the  preacher,  and  had  much  to  say  about  "  ministers  not 
dabbling  in  politics,"  "  sticking  to  their  calling,"  &c.,  &c.  It  hap- 
pened that  on  one  occasion  he  rode  to  a  ferry  across  the  Illinois 
river,  where  the  country  was  more  thickly  populated,  and  met  a 
little  knot  of  people  who  were  discussing  pohtics.  The  ferryman,  a 
stout  fellow,  was  holding  forth  in  excited  terms  about  some  old 
renegade,  prefixing  a  good  many  expletives  to  his  name,  which  we 
omit — one  Peter  Cartwright,  swearing  that  if  he  ever  came  that 
way  he  would  drown  him  in  the  river.  Cartwright,  unrecognized 
by  any  one,  said,  "  Stranger,  I  want  you  to  put  me  across."  "  You'll 
wait  till  I'm  ready,"  said  the  ferryman.  So  when  he  had  finished 
his  speech,  he  added,  "  Now  I  will  put  you  over."  Cartwright  rode 
his  horse  into  the  boat,  and  the  ferryman  began  to  pole  it  across. 
Cartwright  felt  it  his  duty  to  make  himself  known,  and  assert  his 
principles ;  but  he  wanted  to  be  sure  of  fair  play.  So  when  they 
reached  the  middle  of  the  stream,  he  threw  the  horse's  bridle  over 
a  stake  of  the  boat,  and  told  the  ferryman  to  lay  down  his  pole. 
"  What  for  ?"  said  the  ferryman.  "  Well,  you  have  just  now  been 
using  my  name  *  improper ;'  you  said  if  I  ever  came  this  way  you'd 
drown  me  in  the  river.  Now  you've  got  a  chance  to  do  it."  "  Is 
your  name  Pete  Cartwright  ?"  said  the  ferryman.  "  My  name  is 
Peter  Cartwright,"  said  the  preacher.  Down  drops  the  pole,  and 
at  it  go  preacher  and  ferryman.  They  grapple  for  a  minute,  but 
Cartwright  is  remarkably  agile,  as  weU  as  athletic,  and  in  a  trice 
he  has  the  ferr3rman,  with  one  hand  by  the  nape  of  his  neck,  and 
with  the  other  by  the  seat  of  his  trowsers,  and  whirling  him  over 
the  side  of  the  boat,  plunges  him  under  the  tide;  his  astonished 
companions  looking  on  from  the  shore,  fair  play  being  secured  by 
the  distance.  Twice  and  thrice  the  preacher  souses  the  poor  ferry- 
man under,  saying  as  he  does,  "  I  baptize  thee  (k'splash)  in  the 
name  of  the  devil  (k'splash),  whose  child  thou  art  (k'splash) ;"  then 
lifting  him  up  di'ipping  with  water,  and  gasping  for  breath.  Cart- 


120  THE   PIONEER   PKEACUER. 

Wright  asks  liim :  "  Did  you  ever  pray  ?"  "  Pray !"  said  the  ferry- 
man, "  no."  "  Then  it's  time  you  did,"  said  the  preacher.  "  Say, 
Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven."  "  D — d  if  I  do,"  said  the  ferry- 
man. K'splash — goes  the  poor  man  under  the  tide  again.  "  Will 
you  now  ?"  said  the  preacher.  "  No — I — won't,"  said  the  strangled 
ferryman.  K'splash — under  the  water  again.  "  Will  you  pray  now?'''' 
said  the  preacher.  "  I'll  do  any  thing,"  gasped  the  ferryman.  "  Say, 
Our  Father  which  art  in  heaven."  "  Our  Father  which  art  in  heav- 
en," said  the  ferryman,  and  followed  him  through  the  Lord's  prayer. 
"  Now  let  me  up,"  said  the  ferrj-man.  "  Not  yet,"  said  the  preacher. 
"  You  must  make  me  three  promises — first,  that  you  will  repeat  that 
prayer  every  morning  and  night,  as  long  as  you  live  ;  secondly,  that 
you  will  hear  every  Methodist  preacher  who  comes  within  five  miles 
of  this  ferry;  and,  thirdly,  that  you  will  put  every  Methodist  preacher 
over  this  ferry,  free  of  expense.  Do  you  promise  ?"  "  I  promise," 
said  the  ferrjTiian,  and  resumed  his  pole.  Cartwi'ight  went  on  his 
way,  and  that  ferryman  not  long  after  became  a  convert,  and  in  time 
quite  a  shining  light  in  the  Church. 

Wilson  Pitner  was  another  pioneer  of  later  date.  He  was  subject 
to  despondency  and  self-depreciation,  and  to  corresponding  exalta- 
tion of  feeling.  He  once  began  a  sermon  as  follows :  "  As  I  was 
riding  through  the  woods,  I  saw  a  grapevine  whose  stalk  was  as  big 
as  my  arm,  and  on  looking  up,  I  saw  that  it  reached,  I  should  think, 
forty  feet,  to  the  great  branch  of  a  tall  oak,  and  held  on  there ;  on 
the  ground  around  were  other  grapevines,  small  and  flat,  with  ten- 
drils loose  and  seeking.  Yes,  said  I,  I  see  what  makes  the  difference. 
That  big  grapevine,  large  as  my  arm,  and  forty  feet  high,  was  once 
on  the  ground  as  poor  and  small  as  any ;  but  it  took  hold  of  the  tree. 
So  it  is  with  me,  my  dear  hearers,  I  am  very  apt  to  be  on  the 
ground,  dispirited  and  disconsolate ;  but  when  I  take  hold  of  God, 
when  I  cling  to  Him,  and  wind  my  tendrils  around  His  great 
branches,  ah !  then  I  mount  up,  strong  and  lofty."  And  after  the 
sermon,  as  he  started  forth  across  the  prairie  on  horseback,  his  com- 
panion asked  him  how  he  felt  in  one  of  these  exalted  moods.  To 
fully  appreciate  liis  reply,  one  must  have  experienced  the  irresistible 
exhilaration  of  being  on  a  wild  horse  in  the  midst  of  one  of  those 


THE   TWO-STOEY    WAREHOUSE.  121 

boundless  prairies.  "  I  feel,"  said  he,  "  as  if  my  soul  was  running  a 
horse-race  in  the  grand  prairie  of  Divinity."  Thus  did  they  illus 
trate  in  a  bold,  familiar  way.  Pitner  once  came  in  his  circuit  to 
the  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  where  he  had  an  appointment  to  preach, 
and  joined  a  cluster  of  men  discussing  the  best  locality  and  pattern 
of  a  new  warehouse.  He  thereupon  took  for  his  text,  "  But  godli- 
ness is  profitable  unto  all  things,  having  promise  of  the  life  that  now 
is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come."  And  he  began  :  "  My  friends,  I 
hear  you  talking  about  a  new  warehouse  on  the  river,  and  discussing 
where  it  shall  be  put,  and  what  size  it  shall  be,  and  whether  it  shall 
have  one  or  two  stories.  I  can  tell  you  of  a  warehouse,  and  it's  a 
two-story  warehouse — it  has  one  story  in  this  life,  and  another  story 
in  the  life  to  come ;  and  when  the  water  rises  so  that  the  first  story 
isn't  safe,  you  can  tote  your  plunder  up  into  the  second  story."  And 
so  he  proceeds  to  develop  the  truth  of  the  text. 

We  might  multiply  anecdotes  to  any  extent,  but  our  limits  forbid. 
In  the  words  of  Mr.  Milburn,  "  The  pioneer  preacher  is  a  man  of 
stamina  and  a  man  of  humor ;  an  urgent  sort  of  man,  whose  soul  is 
permeated  with  the  truth  of  what  he  said — without  doubt,  evasion,  or 
equivocation — speaking  right  out  what  he  has  to  say,  and  doing  right 
on  what  he  has  to  do.  True,  they  have  their  faults.  They  are  in- 
ferior in  the  niceties  and  elegancies  and  refinements  and  beauties  of 
civilized  society;  but  with  all  their  downright  directness,  they  are  men 
of  great  hearts  and  tender  susceptibilities.  It  is  much  in  vogue  to  dis- 
parage ministers  of  the  gospel,  to  treat  them  decently,  perhaps,  as  a 
sort  of  debihtated  class  between  women  and  children,  with  conde- 
scending patronage.  But  these  pioneer  preachers  need  no  patron- 
age, nor  pity;  they  can  take  care  of  themselves,  and  they  do  it. 
And  if  any  one  at  the  East  fails  to  find  his  ideal  of  ministerial 
character — sublime  courage,  indomitable  energy,  daring  self-forget- 
fulness,  a  Christian  piety  which  is  self-abnegation — then  let  him  go, 
even  in  this  present  day,  west  of  the  Mississippi,  and  he  will  find 
there  some  noble  pioneers,  hastening  with  the  bread  of  life  to  the 
starving  inhabitants,  scattering  manna  in  the  wilderness  'unto 
eternal  life.' " 

Those  who  rise  early  and  toil  late,  to  hoard  up  gold  with  which 


122  THE   PIONEEK   PREACHEE. 

to  build  a  house,  and  live  in  it  and  die,  with  no  breath  from  grate- 
ful hearts  to  waft  them  up  to  heaven ;  those  who  struggle  and  ma- 
noeuvTe  and  electioneer,  sacrificing  principle  and  peace  to  win 
earthly  power,  which  they  use  for  their  own  exaltation — but  never  to 
hft  up  the  people  they  have  used ;  those  who  loll  in  lazy  luxury,  con- 
suming the  han-ests  their  soft  hands  have  neither  sown  nor  reaped  ; 
well  may  they,  unsatisfied,  restless,  craving,  ennuyed,  envy  the  hard- 
ship, the  poverty,  the  toil,  the  lowliness,  and  the  health,  the  peace, 
the  exhilaration,  the  joyful  memories,  the  heavenly  hopes  of  the  self- 
sacrificing,  man-loving,  God-fearing  Methodist  Preacher. 

The  next  sketch  will  contam  a  description  of  the  daily  life  of  the 
Pioneer  Preacher. 


^J 


A 


Ji,  f  f^^/y 


c^ 


WJLLIAM  HENRY  MILBURN, 

THE  BLIND  PREACHES. 


"For  Thou  wilt  light  my  candle  :  the  Lord  my  God  will  enlighten  my 
darkness." 


W.  H.  MiLBURN  was  bom  in  Philadelphia,  on  the  twenty-sixth  of 
September,  1823.  His  father  was  a  merchant,  but,  meeting  with  re- 
verses, removed  to  the  West  in  1838,  and  is  now  living  with  his  wife 
and  one  son  at  Jacksonville,  Illinois.  They  were  originally  from 
Maryland,  and  belong  to  the  Methodist  Church.  William  was  an 
active,  robust  boy,  possessed  of  perfect  faculties,  both  bodily  and 
mental ;  but  at  the  age  of  five  met  with  the  accident  which  resulted 
in  blindness.  He  was  playing  with  another  lad  in  an  open  lot,  en- 
gaged in  throwing  at  a  mark,  when  his  companion,  in  lifting  his 
hand  to  cast  a  piece  of  iron  hoop,  or  something  of  the  kind,  inad- 
vertently struck  the  edge  of  it  into  Milbum's  eye. 

From  this  accident,  however,  the  eye  recovered  without  injury  to 
vision,  except  that  the  scar  consisted  of  a  slight  protuberance,  which 
interfered  with  sight  downward,  but  not  direct  or  upward.  This 
protuberance  the  physician  decided  to  bum  off  with  caustic ;  an  op- 
eration which,  twice  repeated,  was  hard  for  the  boy  to  bear.  He 
begged  for  relief,  and  at  last  resisted,  declaring  that  he  could  not 
endure  it.  Upon  this  the  physician  seized  him  in  his  arms,  forced  the 
caustic  upon  the  wound,  and  in  the  struggles  both  eyes  of  the  poor 
boy  were  dashed  with  it.  As  a  remedy,  they  were  kept  bathed  with 
a  solution  of  sugar  of  lead  for  two  years,  during  which  time  the  pu- 
pils became  permeated  with  depositions  of  lead,  and  light  was  shut 


124:  WILLIAM    IIENKY    MILBURN. 

out,  vsith  the  exception  of  the  loft  upper  comer  of  tlie  right  eye, 
through  whicli  narrow  aperture  objects  were  visible. 

By  placing  a  projecting  shade  over  the  eye,  the  hand  convexly 
shaped  beneath  it,  and  leaning  the  body  forward  st  an  angle  of  forty- 
five  degrees,  Milburn  was  able  to  read ;  seeing,  however,  only  one 
letftr  at  a  time.  Cut  off  from  most  sports,  he  became  absorbed  in 
reading ;  and  day  after  day  would  sit  in  the  constrained  posture 
necessary  to  see,  poring  over  books,  often  twelve  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four.  His  constitution  was  so  good  that  it  did  not  suffer 
under  this  confinement  and  unnatural  attitude,  until  he  was  nine- 
teen years  of  age,  when  a  Senior  in  college ;  then  his  health  sud- 
denly gave  way,  and  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  a  slight  curva- 
ture of  the  spine,  and  some  internal  organic  disease.  From  the 
former  he  has  not  altogether  recovered,  and  is  in  consequence 
obliged  to  lie  in  a  horizontal  position  during  a  portion  of  every  day ; 
but,  though  of  rather  slender  and  delicate  appearance,  he  is  capable 
of  enduring  great  fatigue,  and  long-continued,  severe  mental  applica- 
tion. 

His  sight  has  been  gradually  diminishing,  so  that  now  he  is  una- 
ble to  read  at  all ;  but  in  a  favorable  light  and  position,  can  dimly 
discern  the  outline  of  objects.  The  result  is,  that  his  other  senses  are 
cultivated  to  exquisite  nicety.  He  recognizes  acquaintances  from  the 
voice,  more  readily  than  many  do  from  the  appearance ;  and  he 
judges  of  character  from  intonation,  as  others  do  from  expression. 
His  idea  of  locality  is  admirable,  so  that  he  moves  about  in  familiar 
places  with  facility,  and  often  travels  unattended,  trusting  to  the 
kindness  of  strangers,  or  rather  certain  of  meeting  some  one  of  his 
many  friends.  His  memory  is  prodigious,  receiving  like  wax  and 
retaining  like  iron,  and  in  early  life  w\is  probably  not  surpassed  by 
that  of  Magliabecchi,  or  any  of  the  mnemonic  prodigies. 

On  hearing  his  ftither  read  a  chapter  of  the  Bible  at  morning 
prayers,  he  would  repeat  it  after  him  without  mistake,  and  two  rep- 
etitions insured  its  permanent  retention.  A  college  mate  has  told 
iLs  of  his  going  to  Milburn's  room  one  day  with  a  volume  of  Chal- 
mers' Astronomical  Discourses,  and  reading  him  a  half  or  two-thirds 
of  one.    Milbum  expressed  delight,  and  wished  it  read  again.    He 


HIS  MEMORY.  125 

did  so,  when  Milbiirn  said,  "  Thank  you,  I  have  it  now."  "  What  do 
you  mean — have  what  ?"  "  Why,  I  have  that  sermon ;"  and  to  dis- 
pel skepticism,  repeated  it  verbatim,  and  the  next  Saturday  declaimed 
a  part  of  it  in  the  chapel.  After  entering  college,  however,  he  dis- 
couraged the  cultivation  of  memory,  and  bent  his  mental  energies  in 
other  directions,  fearing  to  be  no  more  than  the  receptacle  of  other 
men's  thoughts — a  mere  walking  encyclopedia. 

The  result  is,  that  his  memory  is  now  less  tenacious.  His  habit, 
at  present,  is,  when  wishing  to  commit  a  new  chapter,  preparatory 
to  public  worship,  to  have  it  read  to  him  on  the  previous  day,  and 
he  repeats  after  the  reader,  verse  by  verse,  and  then  in  sets  of  four 
verses,  commencing  each  time  at  the  commencement  of  the  chapter. 
With  one  reading  of  the  chapter  thereafter,  he  is  prepared  to  go 
through  it  before  an  audience,  without  possibility  of  failure.  Poetry 
he  commits  with  greater  facility  than  prose.  He  is  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  Hymn-book,  and  can  probably  repeat  most  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and  considerable  portions  of  the  Old.  His  retention  oi 
names,  dates,  facts,  and  conversations,  seems  to  be  equally  good ;  the 
only  difference  of  power  being  between  the  committing  of  prose  and 
of  poetry.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that  his  four  children  inherit 
much  of  this  power  of  memory :  the  oldest,  a  daughter  of  eighl 
years,  having  a  special  gift  in  that  way ;  and  the  next,  a  bright  httle 
fellow,  having  caught  a  good  part  of  Milton's  Allegro,  from  hearing 
his  sister  repeat  it,  before  he  could  understand  a  word  of  it.  Since 
we  have  floated  along  to  this  point  of  the  narrative,  we  will  add, 
that  Mr.  Milburn's  wife,  a  Baltimore  lady  of  thorough  education  and 
practical  sense,  to  whom  he  was  married  in  1846,  is  his  principal 
reader ;  at  some  periods  reading  to  him  ten  hours  a  day  for  weeks, 
four  and  five  hours  at  a  sitting,  and  sometimes  fifteen  hours  out  of 
the  twenty-four. 

In  May,  1838,  the  Milbum  family  removed  fi-om  Philadelphia  to 
Jacksonville,  Illinois ;  and  being  in  reduced  circumstances,  William, 
in  company  with  his  father,  sought  for  some  suitable  means  of  live- 
lihood at  St.  Louis,  Quincy,  and  other  places.  The  son  was  offered 
a  clerkship  on  a  steamboat,  but  his  mother  would  not  consent  to  a 
situation  so  hazardous  to  good  habits ;  and  the  result  was,  that  the 


120  WILLIAM   HENRY    MILBURN. 

father  opened  a  small  store  in  Jacksonville,  witli  William  for  a  clerk. 
His  parents,  while  interested  in  his  education,  feared  that  reading 
would  result  in  total  blindness,  and  wished  him  to  relinquish  books 
for  business,  and  hence  the  clerkship.  William's  regular  duties  con- 
sisted in  being  up  at  four  o'clock,  lighting  the  kitchen  fire,  drawing 
water,  and  cutting  wood,  opening  the  store,  sweeping  it  out,  and  re- 
turning to  breakfast  by  candlelight  in  winter,  or  at  sunrise  in  sum- 
mer. The  day  was  spent  at  the  store,  and  faithful  attention  to  cus- 
tomers was  necessary,  besides  the  keeping  of  the  books,  which 
he  managed  to  do,  with  some  assistance,  in  spite  of  his  limited 
vision. 

But  meanwhile  the  studies  could  not  be  relinquished,  for  a  liberal 
education  was  the  lad's  ambition.  At  his  place,  by  the  door,  in 
summer,  and  at  a  window  in  winter,  sitting  in  a  constrained  posture, 
he  received  the  sunlight  of  knowledge,  as  it  were,  through  a  crevice 
in  the  roof,  instead  of  by  the  eflfulgence  poured  in  through  surrounding 
windows ;  besides  the  disabihty  of  sight,  sufiering  from  the  incessant 
interruption  consequent  upon  strict  attention  to  the  store,  and  the 
constant  ear-\ngilance  necessary  to  distinguish  customer  from  idler. 
But  the  preparation  for  college  was  accomplished  without  assistance, 
except  in  the  use  of  Latin  and  Greek  dictionaries ;  and  the  Fresh- 
man class  was  entered  in  1839,  at  Illinois  College,  situated  in  Jack- 
sonville, then  under  the  presidency  of  Dr.  Edward  Beecher.  The 
regular  course  was  pursued  until  the  latter  part  of  the  Senior  year 
(with  the  exception  of  Greek,  which  was  discontinued  on  account  of 
eyesight,  at  the  close  of  the  Sophomore  year),  and  the  clerkship  at 
the  store  ftiithfully  maintained.  Much  interest  was  manifested  by  the 
excellent  people  of  Jacksonville  in  his  progress,  for  he  was  a  favorite ; 
and  all  went  on  prosperously  till  the  spring  of  1843,  his  last  colle- 
giate year,  when  health  suddenly  gave  way,  as  we  have  mentioned ; 
and  separation  from  books  and  a  regimen  of  horseback  riding  were 
prescribed  as  essential. 

From  childhood  Milburn  had  been  the  subject  of  religious  impres- 
sions. Tlie  teachings  of  parents,  and  the  conversations  of  visiting 
clergy,  were  received  into  a  susceptible  heart.  The  emotions,  how- 
ever, excited  by  religious  truth  were  evanescent,  like  all  emotions  of 


THE   preacher's   DISCIPLINE.  ISRT 

childhood.  The  tide  of  boy-feeling  ebbs  and  flows  with  a  rapidity- 
only  equalled  by  its  strength.  There  is  the  sorrow,  the  dash  of 
tears,  the  forgetfulness,  the  glee,  and  the  sky  of  the  boy's  heart  as 
clear  and  blue  as  ever.  But  at  fourteen,  impressions  became  abiding, 
and  he  imited  with  the  Methodist  Church. 

At  a  very  early  age  he  had  an  unwavering  presentiment  that  he 
should  be  a  preacher ;  but  with  college  Ufe  and  its  success,  especially 
in  declamation,  debate,  and  composition,  new  ambitions  were  engen- 
dered, and  a  wider  field  became  the  object  of  aspiration.  His  father's 
home  had  always  been  the  resort  of  the  travelHng  Methodist  preachers. 
He  had  hstened  to  their  stories,  their  escapes,  their  religious  expe- 
rience and  exhortations,  with  absorbed  interest:  they  were  the 
Knight  Templars  of  his  life-romance ;  and  through  early  years  all 
encouragement  to  be  himself  a  Methodist  preacher  met  with  a 
responsive  throb. 

Now  laid  aside  from  study,  and  driven  to  the  saddle  to  win  back 
the  ebbing  forces  of  life,  he  lent  ear  once  more  to  the  suggestions  of 
the  old  preachers,  who  looked  upon  this  experience  as  a  providential 
guidance  into  the  path  of  the  ministry.     The  presiding  elder  urged 
the  course  of  duty.    His  father  furnished  him  with  a  horse,  saddle, 
and  saddlebags ;  his  mother  fitted  him  with  a  grayish-blue  jeane  suit 
(a  homespun  woollen  fabric,  the  coarser  quahty  of  which  goes  under 
the  name  of  linsey-woolsey) ;   and  thus  accoutred,  with   overcoat 
strapped  on  the  saddle,  he  starts  forth,  in  company  with  the  presid- 
ing elder,  as  an  itinerant  preacher,  to  make  the  first  acquaintance 
with  his  circuit.    He  had  never  rode  before  to  any  amount,  but  at 
the  end  of  two  and  a  half  days  an  appointment  one  hundred  miles 
distant  was  punctually  attained.    His  theological  course  had  also 
commenced,  with  the  good  elder  as  the  professional  corps;   the 
Bible,  his  text-book ;  the  saddle,  his  recitation-seat ;  God's  wide,  beau- 
tiful earth,  the  seminary.    The  appointment  was  a  quarteriy-meeting, 
held  in  a  double  log-cabin— that  is,  a  cabin  with  two  rooms,  on  the 
floors  of  which  the  preachers  slept  at  night    The  meeting  began  at 
one  o'clock  Saturday  afternoon  with  a  sermon  by  the  elder.    In  the 
evening  the  local  preacher  officiated,  at  the  close  of  which  ser\dce, 
the  elder,  without  warning,  spoke  out  in   an  imperious  voice— 


12S  WILLIAM    HENRY   MILBUEN. 

*'  Brother  Milburn,  exhort ;"  and  thus,  standing  up  behind  a  splint- 
bottomed  chair,  "Brother  Milburn"  made  his  first  address  to  a 
religious  assembly,  and  his  profession  was  entered  at  the  age  of 
nineteen.  Thus  during  the  summer,  he  traversed  a  region  of  one 
thousand  miles  in  extent,  preaching  on  every  Saturday  and  Sunday, 
and  three  or  four  times  during  the  week,  always  in  company  with 
his  theological  instructor,  his  text-book,  and  his  seminary  course.  In 
September  26th,  1843,  on  his  twentieth  birthday,  he  was  admitted 
as  a  "  travelling  preacher"  to  the  Illinois  Conference,  and  his  field  of 
labor  specified. 

At  this  point  let  us  observe  the  daily  life  of  a  Methodist  pioneer 
preacher,  with  more  minuteness  than  in  the  previous  chapter.  His 
circuit,  we  will  suppose,  is  one  of  two  hundred  miles,  with  thirty 
"appointments,"  each  one  to  be  visited  once  in  four  weeks.  He 
obeys  the  rules  of  the  Book  of  Discipline,  the  most  noteworthy  of 
which  are  these : 

1.  Never  fail  to  meet  an  appointment 

2.  Never  disappoint  a  congregation. 

3.  Never  be  unemployed ;  never  be  triflingly  employed. 

4.  Believe  e\il  of  no  one  without  evidence. 

5.  Speak  e\il  of  no  one. 

6.  Be  ashamed  of  nothing  but  sin, 
v.  Do  every  thing  at  the  time. 

8.  Rise  at  four  o'clock. 

9.  And  converse  sparingly  with  women. 

Rising  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  a  season  of  devotion, 
he  seeks  his  horse,  which  he  cleans  and' feeds.  The  Methodist 
preacher  always  takes  care  of  his  own  horse,  and  hence  they  become 
greatly  attached  to  each  other ;  and  the  preacher  is  usually  some- 
what of  a  jockey,  and  takes  a  worthy  pride  in  his  animal.  Milburn's 
horse  was  young,  and  very  superior,  and  his  companion  during  the 
four  years  of  western  life.  He  has  ridden  him  ninety  miles  in  one 
day.  After  this  duty,  he  returns  to  the  house,  washes,  and  sits  down 
to  study  till  breakfast,  which  usually  consists  of  bacon,  "corn- 
dodger," or  hot  corn-bread,  "  seed-tick  coffee,"  a  cheap  kind  of  Rio 
coffee  of  small  kernel,  strong  and  bitter,  which  gets  its  name,  doubt- 


TiiE  preacher's  duties.  129 

less,  by  an  attempt  to  illustrate  a  thing  of  taste  by  a  tbing  of  feeling. 
After  breakfast  he  saddles  bis  horse  and  starts  on  his  journey,  hav- 
ing an  appointment  to  preach,  we  will  suppose,  twenty  miles  distant, 
at  half-past  ten.     If  it  is  winter,  he  has  on  a  fur  cap,  overcoat,  and 
buffalo  overshoes.    If  warm,  and  not  raining,  the  overcoat  is  strapped 
behind  the  saddle,  and  a  straw  hat  has  superseded  the  cap.     The 
suit  of  coarse  blue  jeane  is  cut  in  the  simple  Quaker  style.     The 
saddlebags  are  filled  with  religious  books,  which  he  sells,  realizing 
from  the  profits  a  little  daily  income.     Every  appointment  must  be 
kept,  even  when  the  preacher  is  sure  that  no  audience  will  meet 
him.     Even  drenching  rain  must  not  interfere  with  progress :  and 
the  preacher  carries  no  umbrella ;  but  the  motion  of  riding  insures 
against  taking  cold,  if  the  clothes  can  be  dried  at  the  stopping-place. 
On  his  way  he  overtakes  some  half-dozen  women  in  calico  gowns 
and  aprons,  with  knitting-work,  proceeding,  with  friendly  gossip,  to 
the  meeting.     These  will  constitute  his  audience,  as  it  is  a  work- 
day of  spring,  and  the  men  are  busy  in  the  field.     The  log-cabin 
where  the  meeting  is,  has  but  one  room,  which  is  parlor,  kitchen, 
bedroom,  and  lumber-room.     After  some  friendly  chat  with  the 
women,  he  withdraws  to  one  part  of  the  room  for  a  brief  interval  of 
meditation,  and  then  commences  the  services  with  a  hymn.     This  is 
followed  by  prayer,  another  hymn,  a  sermon,  and  concluding  exer- 
cises, and  the  meeting  is  adjourned  till  evening.     Thereupon  the 
good  housewife  proceeds  to  get  dinner,  and  pulls  from  under  the 
bed  a   nice   molasses   pudding,   prepared   in   anticipation   of  the 
preacher's  welcome  visit.     The  men  come  in  from  the  fields,  and 
pleasant  talk  and  narrative  ensue,  the  humorous  and  religious  com- 
bined. 

The  preacher  spends  the  afternoon  in  study  and  writing,  and  in 
the  evening  preaches  again  to  a  larger  audience  of  men  and  women, 
and  attends  to  personal  religious  conversation,  or  any  matter  of 
church  business.  On  Sunday  the  audience  is  large,  collected  from 
a  circuit  of  from  five  to  thirty  miles,  the  sermon  from  one  to  two 
hours  in  length,  and  the  services  more  elaborate,  sometimes  con- 
tinuing without  an  intermission  from  eight  a.  m.  till  five  p.  m.,  the 
sermons  of  some  being  five  hours  long.     The  settlers  do  not  care  to 

9 


130  WILLIAM    HENRY   MILBURN. 

come  thirty  miles  for  a  mere  sprinkle  of  preacliing.  These  sermons 
consist  much  in  exposition  of  Scripture,  in  liberal  quotation  and 
grouping  of  texts,  and  in  familiar  illustration,  closing  with  fervent 
and  extended  exhortation.  Formal  and  highly  wrought  discourse 
would  bo  absurd  to  a  group  of  half  a  dozen  women,  and  as  many 
men  in  their  shirt-sleeves,  who  have  just  laid  aside  pipes  and  familiar 
conversation  together,  to  hear  a  preacher  who  takes  his  stand  behind 
a  wooden  chair  on  one  side  of  the  kitchen.  Yet  the  preaching  is 
not  by  any  means  thin.  It  has  body,  and  that  of  great  power.  The 
sermon  has  been  built  up  day  after  day,  by  reflection  on  horseback, 
study  in  cabins,  and  practice  through  its  growth,  thre«  or  four 
times  a  week.  All  the  varied  experiences  with  nature,  with  people, 
in  conversation,  by  anecdote,  on  the  road,  in  the  cabin,  through  the 
field,  are  made  to  contribute  to  its  Hfe;  and  thus,  when  finished, 
it  is  like  its  robust  originator,  hearty  and  elastic,  full  of  vitality 
and  blood  and  electricity,  instead  of  being  pale  and  abstract, 
like  the  dyspeptic  dinger  to  rocking-chairs  and  book-encircled 
rooms. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  rules  for  professional  duty  which 
will  illustrate  the  preacher's  life. 

1.  To  spend  from  four  to  five  in  the  morning,  and  from  five  to 
six  in  the  evening,  in  prayer,  meditation,  and  reading  of  the 
Scriptures. 

2.  To  preach,  if  possible,  at  five  in  the  morning. 

3.  To  visit  the  sick. 

4.  To  see  that  the  other  preachers  behave  well. 
6.  To  meet  the  Stewards  and  Leaders. 

6.  To  appoint  all  the  Leaders. 

7.  To  receive,  try,  and  expel  members. 

8.  To  hold  Watch-nights  and  Love-feasts. 

9.  To  hold  quarterly  meetings  in  absence  of  Presiding  Elder. 

10.  To  take  care  that  every  society  is  supplied  with  books. 

11.  To  publicly  catechise  the  children. 

12.  To  form  Bible-classes. 

13.  To  enforce  the  rules  of  the  society. 

14.  To  keep  accounts  of  attendance  on  worship,  number  of  Sab- 


THE   PKEACHEe's   EDUCATION.  131 

■bath-school  children,  &c.,  &c.,  and  report   regularly  to   the  Con- 
ference. 

15.  To  obtain  the  names  of  the  children,  pay  special  attention  to 
them,  and  speak  to  them  personally  and  kindly. 

And  the  Book  of  Discipline  adds,  "  The  sum  is,  go  into  every 
house  in  course,  and  teach  every  one  therein,  young  and  old,  to  be 
Christians  inwardly  and  outwardly.  Make  every  particular  plain 
to  their  understandings ;  write  it  in  their  hearts.  What  patience, 
what  love,  what  knowledge  is  requisite  for  this  !" 

Tndy  said  !  But  the  self-denials  of  the  life  seemed  to  insm-e  the 
graces.  They  were  men  of  large,  beating  hearts,  and  self-sacrificing 
spirit.  They  felt  that  they  had  received  a  "  call "  from  heaven  to 
preach.  They  were  as  certain  of  their  commission  as  was  Paul,  on 
his  way  to  Damascus,  when  the  hght  fi'om  heaven,  above  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun,  shone  round  about  him.  Like  Paul  they  answered, 
"  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?"  With  the  gratitude  of 
redemption,  with  the  warmth  of  a  fii'st  love,  with  the  assurance  of  a 
divine  commission,  they  present  themselves  to  the  Conference,  and 
the  Conference  sends  them  forth.  They  find  their  way  among  the 
log-cabins.  They  gather  people  more  unlettered  than  themselves. 
They  preach  in  kitchens  and  from  stumps.  They  sometimes  utter 
words  of  the  deepest  wisdom.  They  know  little  of  books,  but  they 
can  think,  and  reason,  and  feel,  and  influence,  and  accomplish ;  so 
that  they  become  guides,  captains,  pioneers  in  life.  Some  seem  to 
have  intuitive  knowledge — the  common-sense  persons ;  some  have 
studied  human  nature ;  some  have  been  trained  in  the  school  of 
active  hfe ;  some  have  been  developed  by  silent  thought;  and 
thus,  knowing  little  of  Lexicons  or  Encyclopedias,  they  are  better 
educated  than  some  pale  student  who  has  paid  his  five  dollars  for  a 
parchment.  There  is  no  doubt  every  one  of  them  would  be  of  a 
higher  order  of  manhood,  and  better  preachers,  if  more  skilled  in 
books ;  but  with  little  learning  they  become  great  teachers — with 
scanty  seed  they  reap  mighty  harvests.  They  could  live  on  sixty- 
four  dollars  a  year,  preach  seven  times  each  week,  exhort  daily  from 
house  to  house,  complete  the  circle  of  three  hundred  miles  with 
every  moon ;  swim  ferryless  rivers,  sleep  on  the  ground,  eat  corn- 


133  T^^LLIAM   HENRY   MILBURN. 

bread  and  bacon;  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  report  themselves 
stronc  and  heart v  to  the  Conference,  and  receive  credentials  for 
another  campaign.  They  mount  the  first  wave  of  civilization  which 
rolls  over  the  prairie,  cast  their  bread  upon  the  waters,  and  see  it 
gathered  after  many  days.  We  honor  their  devotion ;  we  bless 
their  good  deeds ;  we  forgive  their  deficiencies. 

In  September  of  1845,  Mr.  Milburn  came  East,  by  order  of  the 
Conference,  to  present  the  cause  of  education,  and  collect  funds  for 
the  establishment  of  Methodist  schools  and  colleges. 

On  his  journey  he  found  himself  on  board  of  an  Ohio  river 
steamer,  on  which  were  three  hundred  passengers.*  From  the  number 
of  days  the  passengers  had  been  together,  Mr.  Milburn  had  become 
well  informed  of  their  character,  and  he  found  most  prominent 
among  the  gentlemen,  were  a  number  of  members  of  Congress,  on 
their  way  to  Washington.  These  gentlemen  had  attracted  his  at- 
tention, on  account  of  their  exceptionable  habits.  On  the  arrival 
of  Sabbath  morning,  it  was  rumored  through  the  boat  that  a  minis- 
ter was  on  board,  and  Mr.  Milburn  was  hunted  up  and  called  upon 
to  "give  a  discourse."  He  promptly  consented,  and  in  due  time 
commenced  Divine  ser\-ice.  The  members  of  Conm-ess  to  whom  we 
have  alluded  were  among  the  congregation,  and  by  common  consent 
had  possession  of  the  chairs  nearest  to  the  preacher.  Mr.  Milburn 
gave  an  address  suitable  to  the  occasion,  full  of  eloquence  and  pathos, 
and  was  listened  to  throughout  with  intense  interest.  At  the  con- 
clusion he  stopped  short,  and  turning  his  face,  now  beaming  with 
fervent  zeal  towards  the  "  honorable  gentlemen,"  he  said :  "  Among 
the  passengers  in  this  steamer,  are  a  number  of  members  of  Con- 
gress ;  from  their  position,  they  should  be  exemplars  of  good  morals 
and  dignified  conduct ;  but  from  what  I  have  heard  of  them,  they 
are  not  so.  The  Union  of  these  States,  if  dependent  on  such  guard- 
ians, would  be  unsafe,  and  all  the  high  hopes  I  have  of  the  future 
of  my  country  would  be  dashed  to  the  ground.  These  gentlemen, 
for  days  past,  have  made  the  air  heavy  with  profane  conversation, 
have  been  constant  patrons  of  the  bar,  and  encouragers  of  intem- 


*  f^OT  this  nnccdotc  we  arc  indebted  to  Col.  T.  B,  Thorpe. 


SENATE   CHAPLAINCY.  133 

perance ;  nay,  more,  the  night,  which  should  be  devoted  to  rest,  has 
been  dedicated  to  the  horrid  vices  of  gambling,  profanity,  and  drunk- 
enness. And,"  continued  Mr.  Milburn,  with  the  solemnity  of  a  man 
who  spoke  as  if  by  inspiration,  "  there  is  but  one  chance  of  salvation 
for  these  great  sinners  in  high  places,  and  that  is,  to  humbly  repent 
of  their  sins,  call  on  the  Saviour  for  forgiveness,  and  reform  their 
lives." 

As  might  be  supposed,  language  so  bold  from  a  delicate  stripling, 
scarcely  twenty-two  years  of  age,  had  a  startling  effect :  the  audience 
separated,  and  the  preacher  returned  to  his  state-room,  to  think  upon 
what  he  had  said.  Conscious,  after  due  reflection,  that  he  had  only 
done  his  duty,  he  determined  at  all  hazards  to  maintain  his  position, 
even  at  the  expense  of  being  rudely  assailed,  if  not  lynched.  AVhile 
thus  cogitating,  a  rap  was  heard  at  his  state-room  door :  a  gentleman 
entered  and  stated  that  he  came  with  a  message  from  the  members 
of  Congress — that  they  had  listened  to  his  remarks,  and  in  considera- 
tion of  his  boldness  and  eloquence,  they  desired  him  to  accept  a 
purse  of  money,  which  they  had  made  up  among  themselves ;  and 
also,  their  best  wishes  for  his  success  and  happiness  through  life. 

But  this  chivalrous  feeling,  so  characteristic  of  Western  men  when 
they  meet  bold  thought  and  action  combined,  carried  these  gentle- 
men to  more  positive  acts  of  kindness :  becoming  acquainted  with 
Mr.  Milburn,  when  they  separated  from  him  they  offered  the  unex- 
pected service  of  making  him  Chaplain  to  Congress,  a  promise  which 
they  not  only  fulfilled,  but  through  the  long  years  that  have  passed 
away  since  that  event,  have  cherished  for  the  "  Wind  preacher"  the 
warmest  personal  regard,  and  stand  ever  ready  to  support  him  by 
word  and  deed. 

His  election  to  the  ofiSce  of  Chaplain  to  Congress,  so  honorably 
conferred,  brought  him  before  the  nation,  and  his  name  became  fa- 
mihar  in  every  part  of  the  Union.  His  health  still  being  delicate, 
in  the  year  1847  he  went  South  for  the  advantage  of  a  mild  climate, 
and  took  charge  of  a  church  in  Alabama.  For  six  years  he  labored 
industriously  in  Montgomery  and  Mobile,  and  in  four  years  of  that 
time,  preached  one  thousand  five  hundred  times,  and  travelled  over 
sixty  thousan  \  miles. 


134  WILLIAM   HENRY   MILBUKN. 

Durino-  the  two  years  at  Montgomery  lie  came  into  the  sad  ex- 
perience which  seems  inevitable  to  active  minds — the  season  of 
questionings  and  doubts,  when  the  cold  fog  closes  down  upon  life's 
river  and  the  mariner  creeps  anxiously  along,  with  constant  sound- 
ings and  tolling  bell.  The  time  has  come  to  settle  the  great  ques- 
tions and  solve  the  problems  of  life  and  religion.  There  is  no  longer 
escape  from  them.  And  as  he  will  not  preach  further  than  he  has 
lived,  it  is  not  strange  that  his  ministrations  lacked  the  pungency 
and  daring  which  are  popular  in  the  Methodist  Church.  So  when 
the  time  came  to  leave  his  people,  he  told  them  of  his  state.  "  I 
have  been  to  you,"  said  he,  "  but  as  '  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the 
wilderness.'  I  know  you  have  gathered  little  good  from  my  preach- 
ing. My  spiritual  eye  has  been  like  my  natural.  But  I  trust  that 
he  who  '  comes  after  me'  will  be  to  you  a  messenger  of  peace,  so 
full  of  Christ's  spirit  as  to  be  the  coming  of  Christ  to  you."  But  at 
last  his  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  rejoiced  in  the  light.  Then  he 
preached  with  heart  and  wide-embracing  charity ;  and  thus,  using 
only  expressions  which  blossomed  out  of  his  own  thrifty  soul,  and 
shedding  all  the  dead  leaves  of  the  past,  he  came  into  another  sad 
experience,  which  also  is  not  uncommon — to  be  suspected  by  those 
who  cannot  distinguish  between  truth  and  established  formulas — to 
be  tried  for  heresy,  and  to  be  abundantly  acquitted.  This  was  during 
the  first  two  years  at  Mobile.  The  next  two  years  were  spent  in 
preaching  in  a  free  church  as  a  city  missionary,  an  enterprise  initi- 
ated by  John  A.  Campbell,  now  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  at 
Washington,  and  supported  by  persons  of  every  denomination.  The 
audience  was  made  up  of  all  classes,  from  the  poorest  and  most  igno- 
rant to  the  richest  and  best  educated.  They  were  very  happy  years, 
of  abundant  promise  for  a  fruitful  future;  but  health  gave  way  again, 
and  the  prostration  of  strength  made  removal  to  the  North  essential. 
In  December  he  was  re-elected  chaplain  to  the  Senate,  which  post  he 
held  till  March  of  1855.  During  the  summer  he  prepared  a  course 
of  lectures,  entitled,  *'  Sketches  of  the  Early  History  and  Settlement  of 
the  Mississippi  Valley,"  which  were  first  delivered  before  the  Lowell 
Institute,  at  Boston,  in  December.  He  has  since  been  wholly  en- 
grossed by  lecturing,  and  his  success  is  unsurpassed.     He  has  spoken 


EDUCATION   IN   THE  lEETHODIST   CHIJKCH.  135 

from  Augusta,  Maine,  to  New  Orleans,  and  from  Chicago  to  Savan- 
nah. From  October  first  to  May  first  he  has  spoken  on  an  average 
seven  times  a  week,  at  least  five-sevenths  of  which  were  lectures. 
Derby  &  Jackson,  of  New  York,  are  publishing  four  lectures  in  one 
volume,  including — "  Songs  in  the  Night,  or  the  Triumphs  of  Genius 
over  Blindness,"  "  An  Hour's  Talk  about  Woman,"  "  The  Southern 
Man,"  "  The  Rifle,  Axe,  and  Saddlebags,  or  Symbols  of  Early  Western 
Character  and  Civilization." 

In  the  course  of  a  year  or  two  all  his  lectures  will  be  published ; 
and  we  hope  also  an  autobiographical  life,  which,  including  expe- 
riences in  the  West,  South,  at  Washington,  and  as  a  lecturer,  among 
all  classes  and  conditions  of  men,  with  the  anecdotes  which  such  a 
memory  will  accumulate,  would  make  a  volume  of  great  interest. 

Mr.  Milbum  is  planning  to  go  to  Europe,  we  understand,  this 
simimer;  and  we  hope  the  English  will  find  out  how  much  of 
interest  to  them  is  contained  in  his  lectures.  He  has  become  a  resi- 
dent of  New  York  city,  and  we  trust  in  time  will  find  a  field  of  labor 
opening  for  him  there,  similar  to  the  one  which  was  so  sorrowingly 
left  at  Mobile. 

Of  his  delivery  we  have  briefly  to  say,  that  it  is  simple  and  natural. 
His  voice  is  clear,  incHning  to  gentle  inflections  and  tender  under- 
tone, though  sometimes  rising  into  great  vigor  and  ring  of  utterance. 
He  speaks  with  easy  and  even  affluent  Extempore,  though  he  uses 
his  memory  but  little  in  preparation  for  pubHc  discourse.  But  his 
preaching  is  not  of  the  style  most  popular  in  his  Church,  for  it  is  not 
demonstrative  nor  assured ;  but  quiet,  and  touching  upon  heart-ex- 
periences with  the  gentleness  of  one  who  has  felt  them. 

As  a  fitting  conclusion,  we  will  give  a  succinct  view  of  the  educa- 
tional movements  and  progress  of  the  Methodist  Church,  with  allu- 
sion to  a  few  of  its  leading  men. 


EDUCATION    IN    THE   METHODIST  CHURCH. 

Of  those  who  have  taken  the  lead  in  education,  Wilbur  Fisk,  D.  D., 
deserves  special  mention.   A  native  of  Vermont,  a  gTaduate  of  Brown 


136  -^-ILLIAM    HENRY   MILEUKN. 

University,  he  began  his  efforts  by  establishing  AYilbraham  Academy, 
Massachusetts,  in  1825  or  '26 ;  and  then  Wesleyan  University,  in 
Connecticut,  in  1830,  of  which  he  was  President  until  his  death,  in 
1840.  Augusta  College,  Kentucky,  was  established  about  the  same 
time ;  and  thus  the  work  has  gone  on,  until  now  every  State  in  the 
Union,  out  of  New  England,  has  at  least  one  Methodist  college  or 
university,  except  California,  which  will  soon  have  one.  Besides 
the  colleges,  they  have  many  high-schools,  which  have  an  attendance 
of  from  three  hundred  to  six  hundred  pupils.  For  example,  in  Illinois 
there  is  the  Northwestern  University,  sixteen  miles  from  Chicago ; 
the  Bloomington  College ;  the  McKendree  College  at  Lebanon ;  the 
Female  College  at  Jacksonville ;  the  High-school  at  Mount  Morris, 
and  other  schools  of  more  recent  origin.  All  the  colleges  and 
schools  are  under  the  care  and  control  of  the  Conference,  and  the 
property  owned  by  the  Church. 

George  Peck  is  another  who  has  done  much  to  arouse  the  denomi- 
nation to  clerical  education.  He  is  now  in  his  fifty-ninth  year ;  has 
been  preaching  forty  years ;  editing  the  "  Methodist  Quarterly"  eight 
years,  and  the  "  Advocate  and  Journal"  for  four  years ;  and  writing 
many  essays,  and  some  volumes  which  have  been  esteemed  worthy 
to  be  used  as  theological  text-books.  He  was  bom  in  Middlefield, 
Otsego  county.  New  York,  August  6th,  1*797.  His  first  preaching 
circuit  was  in  Broome  county,  when  he  was  eighteen,  and  he  went 
by  the  name  of  the  "  boy-preacher."  He  has  always  had  a  taste  for 
theological  controversy,  and  he  became,  at  the  outset,  involved  in 
many  a  smart  skirmish,  which,  while  it  quickened  his  powers,  pressed 
upon  him  the  importance  of  thorough  mental  training  and  outfit. 
Thirty  years  have  passed  since  he  began  to  agitate,  through  press 
and  pulpit,  the  subject  of  clerical  education.  They  have  been  years 
of  rich  growth  to  the  denomination.  Suggestions  of  improvement 
have  become  living  realities.  The  day  has  gone  by  when  people 
look  strangely  at  the  mention  of  a  Methodist  college,  and  "  Metho- 
dist minister"  may  be  used  as  a  sjrnonym  for  ignorance  and  boorish- 
ness. 

And  though  the  change  is  so  recent  that  the  Puritan  descendants 
in  some  quiet  village  are  still  puzzled  at  discovering  that  the  Meth- 


EDUCATION  IN  THE  METHODIST  CHUECH.       137 

odist  preacher,  who  has  come  to  spend  two  years  with  them,  is  a  man 
of  Hterary  cultm-e,  polished  eloquence,  and  refined  taste,  yet  the 
change  is  accomplished.  A  system  of  ministerial  education  is  estab- 
lished ;  text-books  are  prepared ;  timely  aid  is  given  to  the  indigent ; 
libraries  are  collected;  colleges  abound;  newspapers  flourish;  the 
Methodist  Quarterly  Review  is  distinguished  for  the  ability  and  ele- 
gance of  its  articles ;  and  the  Methodist  Book-Concern  floods  the 
country  with  tracts  and  books. 

The  denomination,  now  only  seventy-one  years  old  (the  Methodist 
Church  of  America  having  been  organized  on  Christmas  day,  1784), 
has  22,209  ministers,  81  missionaries,  10  quarterly  and  monthly  pe- 
riodicals, 24  religious  newspapers,  with  a  weekly  circulation  of 
127,900;  24  colleges,  with  99  professors,  1779  .students,  61,270 
volumes  in  their  libraries;  133  female  seminaries  and  colleges, 
11,678  pupils;  amount  of  Church  property,  117,411,440;  amount 
given  the  last  year  for  support  of  ministers.  Sabbath-schools,  &c.  (ex- 
clusive of  what  was  given  for  building  churches),  nearly  |8,000,000, 
which  is  more  than  five  dollars  a  member,  not  counting  slaves; 
population  which  may  be  said  to  be  under  the  spiritual  care  of  the 
Methodist  Church,  nearly  six  millions,  or  full  one-fifth  of  the  popula- 
tion of  the  United  States. 

It  is  worthy  of  note,  that  throughout  the  new  States  and  all  the 
Territories,  the  system  of  Methodism  is  so  complete,  that  preaching 
is  accessible  to  every  hamlet  at  least  once  a  month,  and  to  most 
once  a  week.  To  others  who  have  been  distinguished  in  this  pio- 
neer work,  we  should  be  glad  to  pay  a  deserved  tribute,  did  our 
limits  allow — such  as  William  McKendree,  John  Collins,  James 
Quinn,  Russell  Bigelow,  John  Strange,  Henry  B.  Bascom,  Samuel 
Parker,  Jesse  Walker,  Jonathan  Stamper,  and  others ;  to  Valentine 
Cook,  Martin  Ruter,  Charles  Eliot,  Joseph  Tomlinson,  (fee,  who 
were  the  earliest  movers  for  education  among  the  Methodists  of  the 
West ;  and  we  may  also  worthily  mention  the  names  of  John  Scripps, 
James  Finley,  and  William  Wyman,  who,  together  with  Peter 
Cartwright,  already  referred  to,  are  now  living. 


13S  WILLIAM   HENEY   MILBUEN. 


LIBERTY    OF   THE    PULPIT. 


In  this  connection  we  are  led  to  suggest  whether  the  Church  has 
not  to  rense  its  \iev^s  about  theological  seminaries.  Are  there  not 
many  who  find  that  a  theological  course  has  a  more  or  less  benumb- 
ing influence  on  religious  character  ?  And  is  there  not  a  necessity 
for  this  result  in  the  nature  of  things  ?  Is  not  the  separation  from 
the  work  of  real  life,  and  from  the  sympathies  of  actual  experience, 
unfortunate  for  the  development  of  a  natiu'al  and  vigorous  piety  ? 
And  is  not  the  tendency  of  a  critical  and  philological  dissection  of 
Christ's  simple  words  of  love  and  faith,  and  of  Paul's  glovring  im- 
agery, when  continued  month  after  month,  to  "  exalt  the  letter  which 
tdlleth,"  and  chill  "  the  spirit  which  giveth  life  ?" 

Are  there  not  advantages  in  the  old  method  of  theological  study, 
pursued  under  the  roof  of  some  godly  di\'ine,  and  combining  a  pas- 
tor's experience  with  a  theologian's  instruction,  for  which  libraries 
and  lectures  do  not  compensate  ?  Is  there  not  suggestive  truth  in 
the  success  of  the  Methodist  pioneer  preacher,  although  the  true  bal- 
ance between  the  education  of  books  and  of  practical  life  was  lost, 
by  the  excessive  preponderance  on  one  side  ?  And  is  not  the  "  sem- 
inary air"  of  some  initiative  preaching,  unnatural  and  ineffective  as 
it  is,  suggestive  of  the  possibility  that  the  true  balance  may  be  lost, 
by  preponderance  on  the  other  side  ? 

Vfhj  may  not  the  seminaries,  most  valuable  institutions  as  they 
are,  hold  the  same  relation  to  the  preacher,  which  the  regular  law- 
school  holds  to  the  lawyer — a  place  of  admirable  instruction,  by  all 
means  to  be  attended  if  possible,  but  not  a  prerequisite  to  admission 
into  the  profession  ?  And  why  would  it  not  be  well  for  a  young 
minister,  whether  with  or  without  a  seminary  course,  to  have  practi- 
cal training,  as  temporary  associate,  with  some  experienced  pastor,  as 
the  young  lawyer  always  connects  himself  with  the  office  of  some 
good  attorney  and  counsellor,  before  "  setting  up  for  himself  ?" 

We  are  also  led  to  suggest,  whether  the  world  has  not  reached 
that  time  when  the  pulpit  should  be  open  to  lay-preaching.  For 
centuries  it  has  seemed  to  the  Church  necessary  to  guard  the  pulpit- 


LIBERTY   OF   THE    PrLPIT.  139 

door  with  sleepless  sentries,  lest  dangerous  heresy  or  unedifying  ig- 
norance gain  entrance.  But  the  people  are  not  as  ignorant  or  dan- 
gerous as  once.  Neither  does  the  clergy  now  monopolize  piety, 
learning,  and  literature.  The  printing-press  has  been  invented. 
The  daily  newspaper  is  an  established  institution.  The  private  li- 
brary is  a  household  necessity.  The  rehgious  Weekly  preaches  to  its 
audience  of  one  hundred  thousand.  Is  there  not  a  change  of  rela- 
tions between  clergy  and  laity  which  demands  a  revision  of  condi- 
tions ?  Once,  the  pulpit  guarded  was  the  church  guarded ;  but  now 
winged  imps  of  error  fly  in  at  a  score  of  windows,  and,  alighting  on 
a  hundred  pews,  chatter  deridingly  at  the  old  sentries  on  the  pulpit 
stairs.  Do  not  old  restrictions,  and  defences,  and  precautions,  now 
keep  out  more  good  than  evil  ? 

The  editor  of  a  religious  paper  preaches  weekly  to  an  audience 
one  hundred  times  as  large  as  his  pastor's.  Why  should  he  not 
be  hcensed  as  weU  as  his  pastor?  The  author  of  a  religious  book 
preaches  to  an  audience  one  thousand  times  as  large.  Why  should 
he  not  also  be  licensed  before  preaching  ?  "  The  liberty  of  the  press 
forbids."  True ;  but  there  was  a  time  when  editors  and  authors 
could  not  preach  without  a  license.  In  Italy  they  cannot  now.  Is 
it  not  time  to  inaugurate  "  The  Liberty  of  the  Pulpit  ?" 

Let  us  cite  illustrations.  Here  is  a  western  settlement  of  scattered 
farm-cabins.  A  log  school-house  is  buHt  and  occupied,^  but  no 
church  can  be  erected  as  yet,  nor  pastor  supported.  But  in  one  of 
the  farm-cabins  Hves  a  man  from  New  England,  of  intelhgence, 
good  sense,  and  piety,  who  moved  on  to  "Government  Land," 
for  the  sake  of  his  many  sons.  Why  not  make  him  the  preacher 
on  Sunday  till  the  settlement,  grown  to  a  town,  can  support  a 
pastor  ? 

Here  is  an  old  New  England  village.  The  pastor  is  disabled  by 
sickness.  His  brethren  come  from  long  distances  to  "  supply  the 
pulpit;"  or  "deacon's  meetings,"  distasteful  to  many,  give  opportu- 
nity for  loud  reading  from  printed  volumes.  Of  the  audience  is 
the  Academy  Preceptor,  a  man  of  accomplishments,  of  unusual 
oratorical  excellence,  both  extempore  and  written,  and  of  genial 
piety.    Why  not  make  him  the  preacher  on  Sunday  ?     We  shall 


140  WILLIAM   HENKY   MILBUKN. 

find  that  not  two  divines  of  tlie  county  can  surpass  his  pulpit 
eloquence. 

Here  is  a  thriving  city.  A  revival  occurs  in  a  large  church.  The 
pastor  is  worn  with  excessive  labor.  The  people,  hungry  for  bread, 
demand  preaching  every  night.  Connected  with  the  church  is  a 
lawyer  whose  eloquence  holds  crowded  court-rooms,  for  successive 
hours,  in  rapt  attention.  He  is  also  a  good  man  and  true,  and  si 
fervent  Chiistian.  Why  not  make  him  the  preacher  for  Monday 
and  "Wednesday  evenings  ? 

We  all  say  that  a  Free  Press  is  the  Palladium  of  free  institutions. 
Is  it  not  time  to  inquire  whether  a  Free  Pulpit  is  not  the  prerequisite 
to  an  universal  Christianity  ? 


'i!?Mvecl.yJC.SuUi-e. 


>,v  tfe-  c/3/^-Y<j 


lENRY  WARD  BEECHER, 

THE  PEOPLE'S  PKEACHER. 


**  For  all  the  people  were  very  attentive  to  hear  him.' 


Among  the  many  consecrated  edifices  which  distinguish  Brooklyn 
as  "  the  City  of  Churches,"  is  included  one,  individualized  by  its 
unusual  capacity  and  its  modest  architecture.  It  is  substantially 
built,  evidences  skill  in  the  convenience  of  its  arrangements,  is  fur- 
nished with  sufiBcient  comfort,  and,  so  far  as  the  essentials  of  a 
church  building  are  concerned,  is  a  model.  Once  a  year  its  pews 
are  re-let  on  a  principle  of  universal  equahty.  If  one  be  too  poor  to 
hire  a  seat,  a  simple  request  will  insure  it  to  him  for  the  year. 

Ten  respected  men  of  the  society  officiate  on  the  Sabbath  in  seat- 
ing strangers.  It  is  a  church  pervaded  by  the  hospitality  of  a  home, 
and  where  "  the  poor  "  as  well  as  the  rich  "  have  the  gospel  preached 
to  them,"  as  in  Christ's  time.  It  is  the  outward  expression  of  the 
essential  Democracy  of  Christianity.  Its  seats  are  virtually  free, 
and  its  Pulpit  is  a  Platform. 

Here  gather,  twice  on  every  Sabbath  of  the  year,  except  during  the 
summer  solstice,  about  twenty-five  hundred  people,  and  the  audience 
sometimes  numbers  three  thousand.  It  is  not  unusual  for  the  capa- 
cious body  of  the  church,  the  broad  galleries,  the  second  elevated 
gallery,  the  several  aisles,  and  all  vacancies  about  pulpit  and  doors, 
to  be  occupied  by  eager  listeners,  and  sometimes  hundreds  turn 
away,  unable  to  find  footing  within  the  audience-room.  And  this 
is  no  novel  fact.  It  has  been  a  fact  for  six  years.  Its  persistence 
imparts  to  it  the  dignity  of  a  moral  phenomenon.  It  is  unprece- 
dented in  the  history  of  audiences,  whether  religious,  Hterary,  politi- 


142  HENKY    WAKD    BEECHER. 

cal,  or  artistioal.  What  in  truth  is  it  ?  It  is  not  that  an  orator 
attracts  a  crowd.  That  is  often  done.  But  it  is,  that  twice  on  each 
Sabbath  of  six  years,  from  two  to  three  thousand  people  centre  to  an 
unchanged  attraction. 

No  dramatic  genius,  no  melodious  voice,  no  popular  eloquence 
has  ever  done  so  much  as  that.  Neither  Macready,  nor  Garrick, 
nor  Jenny  Lind,  nor  Rachel,  nor  Gough,  nor  Clay,  nor  Choate  has 
done  it.  The  theatre  must  change  its  "  Star"  monthly,  the  singer  must 
migrate  often,  the  orator  must  make  "  angel-visits "  to  concentrate 
three  thousand  people.  And  the  phenomenon  is  the  more  remarka- 
ble, in  that  this  gathering  is  around  the  Pulpit,  where  no  Art  wins, 
and  no  Pleasure  stimulates ;  and,  furthermore,  it  occurs  when  hun- 
dreds of  other  audience-rooms  are  opened  for  the  same  purpose, 
with  pulpits  suitably  supphed ;  while  competition  must  be  banished, 
before  the  Stars  of  Art  can  fill  three  thousand  seats  for  a  single 
evening.  And  though  a  diflerence  of  expense  has  its  efiect,  yet  it  is 
far  from  explaining  the  difierence  of  fact. 

What  is  it  that  makes  "  Plymouth  Church,  Brooklyn,"  an  excep- 
tion to  all  churches,  and  to  all  audience-rooms  ?  Is  it  because  its 
pastor,  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  is  the  most  eloquent  man,  or  the  most 
learned  man,  or  the  most  godly  man  among  the  clergy  ?  Neither 
is  true  of  him.  When  these  audiences  began,  "novelty"  was 
assigned  by  some  as  the  attraction,  and  "  wit "  by  others ;  but  six 
years  has  ruined  the  one,  and  seekers  for  the  other  find  attendance 
a  too  serious  business.  This  question  may  well  be  pondered  by  all 
churches  and  in  all  pulpits,  for  it  certainly  is  of  moment  to  know 
the  secret  of  Air.  Beecher's  attraction,  when  the  serious  problem  of 
the  day  is  this  matter  of  pubUc  worship.  Take  for  example  this 
church-going  city  of  Brooklyn,  and  we  find  that  all  its  churches 
will  seat  only  46,446,  while  its  population  is  205,250.  The  church 
capacity  of  New  York  is  135,406,  and  its  population  629,810.  In 
New  England,  the  best  Sabbath-keeping  community  of  America, 
not  more  than  one  half  attend  church,  and  the  relative  attendance 
on  public  worship  is  said  to  be  on  the  decrease.  This  vast  repulsion 
between  People  and  Pulpit  is  generally  charged  to  wicked  Human 
Nature.     This  may  be  correct,  but  it  does  not  alter  or  amend  the 


VIEWS    OF   MAN.  143 

fact ;  and  many  are  asking  whether  the  reason  does  not  lie  in  the 
Pulpit,  or  at  least  a  remedy  in  some  change  of  preaching.     The  fa*' 
that  Nettleton  and  Whitefield  and  Duif  and  Beecher  seem  to  neu 
tralize  this  repulsion,  though  not  gifted  with  greater  intellects,  it  is 
said,  than  many  other  preachers,  lends  additional  interest  to  the 
problem. 

Deferring,  therefore,  biography,  as  of  less  account,  we  will  endeavor 
to  present  the  characteristics  of  Mr.  Beecher's  preaching ;  beginning 
with  his  rehgious  and  philosophical  views,  which,  whether  right  or 
wrong,  have  much  to  do  with  his  attraction.  Yet  we  give  our  ideas 
not  with  authority,  not  the  result  of  personal  intercourse,  which 
would  have  had  its  advantages,  but  of  some  hearing  of  his  sermons. 

This  presentation  can  more  readily  be  made,  if  the  reader  will  keep 
the  fact  in  mind,  that  Mr.  Beecher  holds  to  the  "  orthodox"  faith  (a 
term  well  understood),  and  allow  us  to  note  some  of  the  differences, 
either  in  theology,  or  in  the  relative  value  attached  to  certain 
truths,  or  in  the  mode  of  presenting  them,  between  him  and  most 
orthodox  divines. 


MR.   beecher's   views    OF   MAN. 

He  looks  at  him  as  he  is  revealed  in  our  every-day  experience, 
without  regard  to  theory,  and  he  sees  him,  as  we  all  see  him,  hav- 
ing a  twofold  nature,  the  animal  and  the  spiritual,  mutually  depen- 
dent and  mysteriously  united;  and  while  gifted  with  wonderful 
capacities  for  the  highest  good,  and  for  the  purest  and  noblest 
spiritual  life,  he  sees  him  enslaved  by  strong,  and  apparently  inevita- 
ble, downward  tendencies ;  the  lower  propensities  asserting  sway  over 
the  higher  aspirations ;  Sense  lording  it  over  Spirit,  when  it  should 
be  servant ;  the  Animal  absorbing  the  Spiritual,  and  this  resulting 
in  sinful  indulgences,  in  bHndness  to  the  eternal  life,  in  forgetfal- 
ness  of  God,  and  in  the  death  of  trespasses  and  sins ;  or,  to  speak 
less  abstractly,  resulting  in  selfish,  hardened,  unloving,  sensual  men 
and  women.  Now,  nearly  everybody  believes  in  the  doctrine  of 
"total  depravity,"  practically;  at  any  rate,  those  who  have  ever 


144  IIENKY    WARD    BEECHEE. 

practised  law  or  taught  school,  or  even  tried  themselves  to  be  good : 
that  is  to  sav,  vre  believe  that  people  have  an  inequitable  bias  towards 
selfishness  and  forgetfulness  of  God,  and  that  it  is  hard  to  make 
tiiem  different ;  and  we  doubt  whether  any  one  believes  the  doctrine, 
in  the  sense  that  the  depravity  of  children  is  "total,"  meaning 
thereby  that  every  child  is  as  depraved  as  possible.  If  any  do,  they 
have  a  different  view  of  human  nature  from  Mr.  Beecher's,  who 
thinks  that  some  children  are  more  depraved  than  others.  But  he  dif- 
fers from  many  preachers  in  not  presenting  this  doctrine  in  precisely 
defined  statements,  but  in  tabing  it  for  granted.  And  when  taking 
it  for  granted,  he  refers  to  it,  not  as  a  fact  of  discouragement  and  de- 
spair, but  as  something  from  which  we  can  and  may  secure  escape,  for 
which  ample  means  are  provided; — God's  Spirit,  ever  at  work;  Christ, 
the  way  and  the  life;  Providence,  warning  and  guiding;  Nature, 
overflowing  with  instruction;  and  the  Bible,  shedding  its  illus- 
trating light  through  and  over  all.  He  preaches  hope,  restoration, 
salvation.  He  is  hke  the  good  physician,  who  begins  the  cure  by 
the  encouragement  administered  before  the  medicine,  instead  of 
plunging  the  poor  wretch  down  from  all  chance  of  recovery,  by 
enlarging  on  the  desperate  nature  of  his  disease.  "  Yes,  you  are 
sick,  but  you  can  get  well :  we  will  talk  about  that,  not  about  the 
disease."  We  never  heard  him  use  a  common  prayer-phrase,  "  Show 
unto  us,  0  God,  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  our  hearts;"  but  we 
once  heard  him  say  in  a  sermon  that  he  never  offered  that  petition, 
because  there  would  be  such  an  awful  revelation  that  he  could  not  en- 
dure the  sight.  And  yet  we  rarely  hear  any  minister  who  sincerely 
and  unprofessionally  expresses,  with  fuller  consciousness,  or  pro- 
founder  humility,  personal  sinfulness  and  unspeakable  need  of  a 
Divine  Redeemer. 

He  once  incidentally  stated  his  theological  position,  on  this  doc- 
trine, by  saying,  "  I  would  not  for  all  the  world  make  my  nest  in 
the  doctrine  of  total  depravity.  It  would  be  like  lying  on  a  bed  of 
thorns ;"  manifestly  meaning  thereby,  not  that  he  disbelieved  the 
doctrine  (as  some  have  charged),  but  that  he  would  not  dwell  upon 
it,  live  in  it,  brood  over  it;  making  it  the  prominent,  ever-present, 
and  central  truth  :  that  the  chief  place  should  be  occupied,  both  in 


VIEWS    OF    SLAVERY.  145 

one's  thoughts  and  in  one's  system  of  theology,  not  by  man's  de- 
pravity, but  by  God's  infinite,  all-forgiving,  and  inexpressible  love. 
And  though  it  is  not  difficult,  on  the  one  hand,  to  define  his  position 
with  reference  to  this  fundamental  doctrine,  yet,  on  the  other,  one 
can  realize  his  conviction  of  the  degradation  of  Humanity  compared 
with  its  capacities,  only  by  hearing  in  his  prayers,  humble  acknowl- 
edgments of  indwelling  sin,  touching  aspirations  for  deliverance, 
earnest  supplications  for  the  Divine  assistance,  and  heart-utterances  of 
the  Divine  love, — vitally  outbursting  in  every  variety  of  expression 
and  illustration,  and  all  intensified  by  his  lofty  ideal  of  man,  if  only 
disenthralled,  purified,  and  redeemed. 

A  second  distinctive  feature  of  Mr.  Beecher's  convictions  in  re- 
gard to  Man,  is,  that  instead  of  depreciating  or  ignoring  his  value, 
he  exalts  it.  He  sees  nothing  in  the  universe,  except  God  and 
Angels,  of  so  much  worth  as  Man.  He  is  the  centre  around  which 
and  for  which  other  existences  revolve.  All  creatures  are  his  minis- 
ters, the  beasts  of  the  field  and  the  fowls  of  the  air  are  for  his 
sustenance,  the  growth  of  the  soil  for  his  support,  the  atmosphere 
for  his  life,  and  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  for  his  enlightenment ; 
nay,  more  than  this,  institutions  and  governments  are  servants  to 
his  good,  and  only  of  value  as  ministering  to  his  well-being.  Now, 
one  can  see  how  this  conviction  will  shape  many  opinions,  and  give 
the  answer  to  a  variety  of  questions.  In  Dietetics,  for  example :  is  it 
right  to  slay  for  food  ?  Doubtless,  if  it  is  for  man's  good.  In  re- 
gard to  Institutions :  "  the  Sabbath  was  made  for  man,  and  not  man 
for  the  Sabbath,"  would  be  the  indicating  text  to  all  his  positions. 
In  Politics :  shall  an  obnoxious  law  be  sustained  ?  No,  if  it  is  to 
man's  injury.  Is  a  human  law  more  sacred  than  the  God-imaged 
man  to  whom  creation  is  subservient?  Christ,  the  Son  of  God, 
valued  his  hfe  as  worth  less  than  Humanity,  and  shall  any  govern- 
ment rate  itself  higher  ?  Away  with  the  law,  away  with  the  insti- 
tutions which  degrade  or  prostrate  Humanity. 

Here  one  reaches  the  root  of  Mr.  Beecher's  anti-slaveiy  sentiments. 
He  regards  the  African  as  a  part  of  Humanity,  though  some  do  not 
He  looks  upon  him  as  deteriorated  and  demorahzed  by  an  institu- 
tion ;  the  institution  made  superior  to  the  man,  and  hence  his  whole 

10 


146  HENKY    WARD    BEECHER. 

nature  revolts  at  the  enormity — his  soul  inevitably  cries  out  against 
the  wrono-.  Shall  man  be  debased,  his  manhood  crushed  out,  his 
intellect  blinded,  his  Bible  torn  away,  for  whom  Christ  died  ?  God 
forbid  !     Away  with  the  monstrous  wrong  ! 

Now,  no  arguments  in  favor  of  slavery  drawn  from  the  institutions 
of  two  thousand  years  ago,  or  from  the  alleged  physical  comforts 
of  the  slave,  or  from  the  value  of  the  Union,  or  from  the  sacredness 
of  law,  can  touch  such  a  position  as  this.  They  all  appeal  to  lower 
motives,  and  start  and  end  on  an  essentially  lower  plane.  A  scale 
which  makes  compromises  or  unions  or  cotton  of  more  weight  than 
Humanity,  is  abhorrent  to  him  ;  and  the  only  way  to  convince  him 
that  emancipation  should  not  be  immediate,  reckless  of  property  or 
governments,  is  by  convincing  him  that  Humanity  would  lose. 

Finally,  in  regard  to  Theology.  It  is  not  diflQcult  to  see  how  this 
appreciation  of  man  would  affect,  not  his  creed,  but  the  comparative 
prominence  given  to  certain  views  in  his  preaching.  Humanity, 
life,  real  experience,  facts,  would  be  worth  to  him  far  more  than  ab- 
stract formulas,  scientific  propositions,  or  elaborated  systems.  Doc- 
trines would  have  value  only  as  they  can  be  translated  into  experi- 
ence. Truth  must  be  vital  to  be  valuable.  Hence  he  never  takes 
one  of  the  "  doctrines,"  as  theologians  do,  and  devotes  a  sermon  to 
showing  its  relative  place  in  a  system.  "Away  with  such  husks  of 
truth,"  he  says ;  "  they  are  dry  as  last  year's  pods,  and  empty  as 
last  year's  bird-nests.  As  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  the  Jews 
were  of  value  at  one  stage  of  progress,  but  when  Christ  came  were 
to  be  sloughed  off — so  now  do  systems  of  theology  stand  related  to 
the  Church.  They  are  hke  the  wrapping  leaves  round  a  bud, 
essential  in  its  early  state  to  protect  and  preserve ;  but  when  the 
time  of  efflorescence  comes,  then  the  flower  bursts  out  of  them. 
Their  work  is  done ;  and  if  they  hold  on  longer,  so  glued  together 
that  the  swelling  bud  in  vain  presses  against  them,  they  prove,  not 
its  protection,  but  its  death."  And  he  goes  on  to  say,  that  what 
we  want  is  truth  which  is  vital.  We  must  know  how  to  act,  how 
to  control  passions,  how  to  resist  temptations,  how  to  be  self-sacri- 
ficing and  loving,  how  to  walk  with  God,  how  to  Hve.  It  is  well 
m  its  way,  and  important,  to  know  what  to  believe ;  but  the  great 


VIEWS    OF   THE   DEITT.  147- 

thing  is  to  know  how  to  live.  In  a  morning  prayer-meeting  lie 
once  said  :  "  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  some  brother  speak.  K  any 
one  has  any  heart-experience,  which  he  is  moved  to  tell,  I  would  be 
glad  to  hear  him.  But  we  don*t  wish  any  stale  advice,  by  one 
person,  how  his  neighbor  ought  to  feel ;  nor  any  bloodless  commen- 
tatings  on  disputed  texts  of  Scripture.  What  we  want  is  life- 
pulsating,  glowing,  Christian  life.  If  any  one  has  a  living  thought, 
or  an  aspiration,  or  some  blessed  experience  of  divine  grace,  we 
would  like  to  hear  him.  If  a  person  would  bring  in  to  me  a  fresh, 
blue  violet,  this  beautiful  Spring  morning,  I  would  thank  him ;  and 
so  if  any  one  has  a  little  flower  of  Christian  experience,  which  has 
blossomed  forth  from  the  wintry  snows,  through  the  warmth  and 
light  of  God's  love,  I  would  thank  him  for  it — I  would  give  more  for 
it  than  iovfour  acres  of  dried  hay!'' 


MR.    BEECHEr's   views    OF   THE    DEITY. 

Of  com-se,  his  view  of  attributes  is  not  different  from  that  of  all 
believers  in  the  Bible  ;  yet  here,  as  in  other  matters,  the  difference 
in  relative  prominence  given,  works  a  manifest  difference  in  preach- 
ing. Mr.  Beecher  exalts  the  love  of  God— not  sentimentally,  far 
from  it— but  livingly,  eloquently,  rapturously ;  with  heart,  with  glow, 
with  inspiration.  This  he  regards  as  the  central  essence  of  the  Di- 
vine nature,  to  which  other  attributes  are  tributary.  He  esteems  less 
the  cultivation  of  veneration,  which  puts  God  at  a  distance  ;  less  the 
cultivation  of  conscientiousness,  which  exalts  his  justice  ;  but  more 
those  states  of  mind  which  realize  God's  long-suffering,  his  tender- 
ness, his  compassion,  his  forgiveness,  his  nearness ;  in  a  word,  his 
unfathomable  love,  to  which,  as  he  once  said  in  prayer,  "  the  ocean 
is  but  as  a  drop,  and  the  encircling  atmosphere  but  as  a  puff  of 
wind." 

His  address  in  prayer  is  to  a  Father,  to  "  a  Friend  that  sticketh 
closer  than  a  brother."  His  ascriptions  are  those  of  gratitude  for 
the  numberless  expressions  of  God's  love,  forbearance,  and  mercy, 
and  not  so  much  those  of  solemn  reverence  or  retreating  awe.    He 


14:3  HENRY   WAED    BBECHER. 

'•  comes  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace ;"  he  "  draws  nigh  unto 
God.**  The  filial  feeling  is  pre-eminent  in  his  heart ;  and  the  pater- 
nal relation  of  God  to  his  creatures,  the  all-pervading  one  of  the 
Gospel,  rather  than  the  judicial  or  the  governmental  or  the  retribu- 
tive :  yet  these  he  does  not  by  any  means  ignore,  but  esteems  them 
tributary.  Prayer  is  to  him  a  reality ;  and  while  he  is  yet  speaking, 
his  soul,  upborne  on  the  wings  of  aspiration,  hears  the  response,  and 
a  spiritual  interchange  exists  between  the  Father  and  His  child. 

Whatever  tends  to  infuse  our  ideas  with  the  personality  of  God, 
^Ir.  Beecher  dwells  upon.  He  insists  on  the  importance  of  realizing 
the  Deity,  in  our  conceptions,  as  a  "God  not  afar  ofi";"  not  a  vague 
spiritualism ;  not  an  unimpressible  existence,  but  a  Person,  living, 
acting,  sympathizing,  loving,  hating ;  determining,  changing  his  de- 
termination ;  threatening,  withdrawing  the  threat  on  change  of  cir- 
cumstances ;  stretching  forth  the  hand,  speaking  the  word  of  love ; 
full  of  all  emotions  and  vitalities  and  afiections ;  dehghting  in  ac- 
tinties  and  creations  and  ingenuities ;  rejoicing  in  beauty  and 
strength  and  harmony ;  infinite  in  all  those  powers  and  capacities 
in  which  man  is  finite. 

The  voice  of  God  is  to  him  a  fact.     It  is  heard  in  the  murmur- 
ing brook,  and  in  the  resounding  sea ;  in  the  whispering  leaves,  and 
in  the  rejoicing  grain ;  in  the  low-voiced  winds,  and  in  the  reverber- 
ating storm  ;  in  hum  of  insect,  and  in  song  of  bird ; — all  Nature  is 
vocal  with  the  Infinite  Intelligence  and  the  Infinite  Love.     It  is  God 
our  Father,  who  made  the  world,  and  who  wTought  out  its  endless 
variety  of  ingenuities  and  adaptations ;  it  is  our  Father  who  sustains 
it  with  constant  presence ;  every  spring  is  a  new  creation,  as  wonder- 
ful as  when,  at  the  beginning,  "  God  spake,  and  it  was  done."     He 
hears  His  voice  also  in  daily  providences,  and  in  all  the  events  of 
life ;  and  he  hears  it,  with  distinctest  utterance,  in  the  "  still,  small 
voice"  of  the  Spirit,  which  warns  and  reproves,  and  strives  and  in 
spires ;  speaking  direct  to  the  heart  of  man  in  tones  of  unmistakable 
authority.     And  it  is  this  living  belief  in  the  Personality  and  Provi 
dence  of  God,  which  not  only  gives  distinctive  form  to  his  preach 
ing,  but  is  Parent  to  the  reliance,  the  quiet  and  the  cheerfulness  o' 
his  character. 


VIEWS   OF   CHRIST.  149 


To  be  riglitly  understood  on  this  point,  we  must  first  say  some- 
what concerning  his  way  of  looking  at  the  New  Testament ;  pre- 
mising, that  all  these  statements  are  necessarily  imperfect,  because 
of  their  briefness  compared  with  the  subject-matter,  and  because 
they  are  an  attempt  to  reproduce  to  the  view  of  another  the  impres- 
sion made  on  the  mind  by  Mr.  Beecher's  sermons,  without  quo- 
tation from  him  except  when  specified. 

He  regards  many  of  the  terms  of  Paul  and  Peter  and  John, 
describing  Christ,  and  the  illustrations  used,  as  addressed,  not  to  the 
intellect,  through  the  narrow  and  precise  forms  which  the  intellect 
requires,  but  as  addressed  to  the  affections,  through  the  imagination^ 
in  the  more  large  and  undefined  forms  which  the  imagination  de- 
mands :  that  Paul  did  not  speak  in  the  sharply-outlined  terminology 
of  science  or  systematic  theology,  but  from  the  heart  to  the  heart, 
with  all  the  richness  and  exuberance  and  unlimited  sweep  and 
swell  which  such  language  demands ;  and  that  any  attempt  to  re- 
duce his  language  within  the  strict  and  narrow  limits  of  scientific 
statements,  is  derogatory  and  false ;  that  it  strips  his  words  of  their 
life  and  beauty,  and  presents  them  sapless  and  dead  to  the  human 
soul.  And  hence  he  cries :  "  Away  -svith  these  theological  systems, 
these  abstract  formulas,  which  destroy  the  kernel,  and  leave  me  noth- 
ing but  the  shell ;  which  press  out  the  life-blood,  and  leave  me  noth- 
ing but  the  stock.  They  are  the  chill  of  Christian  life.  They  stand 
between  us  and  our  God  like  a  thick  cloud.  Sweep  it  hence !  Let 
us  see  Jesus  as  Paul  and  John  saw  Him,  with  the  eye  of  love  and 
not  of  the  intellect.  He  is  our  Saviour,  our  Sanctifier,  our  Redeemer, 
our  Forerunner,  Intercessor,  and  Mediator ;  our  great  High  Priest. 
He  is  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life.  He  is  the  Son  of  God,  one 
with  the  Father ;  the  power  of  God  and  the  wisdom  of  God ;  the 
brightness  of  His  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  His  person.  He  is 
the  Captain  of  our  salvation,  the  Bishop  of  our  souls,  the  King  of 
kings,  and  Lord  of  lords.  He  is  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning 
and  the  ending,  which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come ; 
the  Almighty.     He  is  the  Root  and  Offspring  of  David,  and  the 


150  nEXRY    AVAKD    BEECHEE. 

bright  and  morning  Star ;  the  Anointed  One ;  the  Faithful  "Witness ; 
the  Word ;  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the 
world.  With  such  multiplied  terms,  how  can  I,  how  dare  I,  at- 
tempt to  compress  into  one  strict  formula  the  mighty  concom'se  of 
appellations  which  fill  the  New  Testament  to  overflowing  ?  Let  us 
add  some,  if  need  be,  to  represent  our  conception,  but  not  take  less. 
If  any  one  can  by  any  term  of  endearment  or  ascription,  present 
Christ  to  himself  more  distinctly  than  Paul  does,  let  him  do  it ;  not 
insisting  upon  that  term  as  scientific  truth,  accurately  defined  and 
imperative  on  all,  but  as  addressed  to  his  own  afiections.  The 
mother  multiplies  terms  of  endearment  for  her  child,  and  so  did  Paul 
multiply  expressions  to  set  forth  Christ ;  but  neither  language  should 
be  reduced  to  logical  precision.  Theological  systems  are  good  in 
their  place.  They  have  their  place  as  all  sciences  have,  but  that 
place  is  not  the  pulpit.  Wliat  people  need  from  the  pulpit  is  re- 
ligious food — the  bread  of  life.  There  is  no  science  in  nature ;  God 
makes  nature,  and  then  Man  makes  the  science.  There  are  the 
flowers  and  the  fruits,  and  Man  makes  the  science  of  botany.  There 
are  the  stars  and  the  sun,  and  out  of  their  regular  motions  Man  makes 
the  science  of  astronomy.  All  these  sciences  are  well  in  theh  place. 
But  when  I  want  a  bunch  of  flowers,  I  do  not  thank  a  man  who 
brings  me  calyxes  and  petals,  and  pistils  and  stamens,  all  scientifi- 
cally analyzed  and  divided  and  labelled.  When  I  want  something 
to  eat,  I  do  not  thank  one  for  bringing  me  the  component  parts  of 
bread  and  butter  and  coffee,  chemically  analyzed  and  scientifically 
arranged :  the  starch  in  one  paper,  and  the  saccharine  matter  in 
another,  and  the  caffein  in  another.  No.  I  want  them  mixed  as 
Nature  mixes  them ;  and  so  I  want  the  Gospel  given  to  me  as 
Christ  gave  it,  naturally,  from  His  great  heart,  with  all  the  freshness 
and  beauty  of  life  and  experience.  The  people  are  himgry  for  the 
bread  of  life,  and  they  are  fed  on  its  scientific  elements.  Let  us  get 
rid  of  these  lifeless  abstractions.  Let  us  take  the  Gospel  as  it  is ;  in 
which  I  challenge  any  one  to  find  the  first  approach  to  a  theological 
system.  It  is  fact,  real  life,  living  experiences ;  and  that  is  what  we 
need  in  this  day.  Away  with  "plans  of  salvation"  and  "philoso- 
phies of  the  plan  of  salvation."     We  have  nothing  to  do  with  God's 


VIEWS  or  crmisT.  151 

philosophies  or  plans.  And  any  system  whicli  exalts  His  govern- 
ment above  Himself,  which  makes  Him  subservient  to  His  laws,  is 
false.  God  wills,  and  that  is  enough.  It  is  done.  He  is  above  all 
systems  and  all  laws.  He  does  what  He  wills  in  the  armies  of 
heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth ;  and  finite,  earthly, 
temporal  views  of  Has  government  do  those  have  who  limit  His  lib- 
erty of  pardon.  *  He  will  have  mercy  on  whom  He  will  have  mercy,* 
despite  all  the  systems  and  plans  of  salvation  from  the  Dark  Ages  to 
the  present  time." 

Returning  to  our  starting-point,  that  Mr.  Beecher  holds  to  the 
orthodox  faith,  and  bearing  in  mind  his  intense  assertion  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  Deity,  and  that  personality  concentred  in  love ;  as  well 
as  his  disrespect  for  theological  systems ;  we  can,  with  a  good  degree 
of  accuracy,  locate  his  views  of  the  Saviour,  and  of  the  Atonement, 
without  ever  having  heard  a  sermon  from  him  on  "  the  doctrine  of 
tJie  Trinity,"  indeed  doubting  whether  he  ever  preached  one. 

It  is  evident  that  he  would  not  state  the  doctrine  in  any  other 
temis  than  those  used  in  the  Bible ;  and  furthermore,  that  out  of 
these  manifold  terms  he  would  not  construct  a  condensed  formula, 
nor  seek  to  coalesce  the  varied  terms  into  one  consistent  and  com- 
prehensive statement,  adapted  to  the  intellect  by  its  sharply  defined 
precision ;  but  he  would  leave  them  all  as  they  stand,  in  their  full, 
large,  and  natural  expression,  addressed  to  the  affections  through 
the  imagination.  Some  chemist,  by  expensive  fiery  reduction,  has 
made  a  diamond  out  of  much  charcoal,  obtained  by  burning  a  regal 
tree.  Mr.  Beecher  would  prefer  his  view  of  Christ  to  remain  in 
the  tree  shape,  living,  graceful,  many-boughed,  leaf-clothed,  fruit- 
bearing,  waving  in  the  fresh  breeze,  rejoicing  in  the  sunlight,  vocal 
with  singing  birds,  rather  than  to  have  it  reduced  by  theological 
coalpits  and  crucibles  to  a  pointed  diamond,  however  sharply  defined, 
lucid,  or  valuable.  Moreover,  he  might  say,  that  according  to  the 
laws  of  the  human  mind,  the  indefiniteness,  if  you  please,  of  those  large 
and  varied  terms  which  he  prefers,  nourishes  a  loftier  and  broader  con- 
ception of  Christ.  Untrammelled  by  a  precise  formula,  the  mind  soars 
upward,  and  embraces  within  its  view  a  wider  and  grander  reach, 
more  in  harmony  with  the  mystery  and  the  infiniteness  of  the  God- 


152  HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

head.  And  indeed  he  does  say,  that  "  religious  truth,  dealing  as  it 
does  mostly  >vith  the  Unseen,  and  whose  main  element  is  faith,  can 
only  be  properly  presented  to  the  mind  through  those  suggestive 
types  and  figures  which,  addressed  to  the  imagination,  stimulate  the 
mind  to  its  self-reaUzed  and  fuller  apprehensions  of  the  Unseen ; 
and  that  those  who  attempt  to  present  religious  truth  by  defined 
stat*iments,  to  the  intellect,  violate  God's  laws  of  mind  and  Christ's 
practical  illustration  of  them ;  and  that,  consequently,  all  such  terms 
as  Intercessor,  Mediator,  and  Forerunner,  when  by  theological  spec- 
ulatists  taken  out  of  the  sphere  of  figures  provocative  to  the  imagina- 
tion, and  forced  into  the  sphere  of  scientific  facts,  become  either 
barren  or  fiilse."  And  we  think  he  would  condemn  as  presumptuous 
all  efibrts  of  poor  finite  Humanity  to  comprehend  and  state  in  its  own 
poor  language  the  incomprehensible  mysteries  of  the  united  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  Shall  the  finite  comprehend  the  Infinite  ? 
"  Canst  thou  by  searching  find  out  God  ?  Canst  thou  find  out 
the  ^Vlmighty  unto  perfection  ?  As  high  as  heaven,  what  canst  thou 
do  ?  deeper  than  hell,  what  canst  thou  knoAv  ?" 

And,  lastly,  Mr.  Beecher's  apprehension  of  the  nature  of  Christ 
would  centre  with  peculiar  attraction  around  His  distinguishing 
attribute,  as  manifesting  God  in  the  flesh.  Through  Christ  are  we 
enabled  to  realize  the  personality  of  God,  possessed  of  all  human 
susceptibilities — "tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin;"  and 
also  in  Christ,  would  the  prominence  which  Mr.  Beecher  gives  to 
God's  love,  find  its  most  impressive  and  beautiful  manifestation. 
"  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life."  If  any  one  text  could  be  singled  out  as  embracing  his  the- 
ology it  would  be  this,  in  which  are  grouped  his  favorite  truths 
— God,  a  person;  Christ,  his  Son;  love,  their  essence;  Human- 
ity, perishing;  its  salvation,  worth  the  gift  of  Divinity;  everlasting 
life,  possible ;  and  beheving  on  Christ,  the  way.  And  all  views  of 
Christ's  death  on  the  cross,  which  represent  it  as  necessary  to  sat- 
isfy the  claims  of  offended  justice,  or  as  a  payment  for  the  sins  of 
the  world,  or  as  a  justification  in  the  sight  of  an  inteUigent  universe 
of  God's  pardon  of  the  sinner— all  "  commercial"  views  of  Christ's 


VIEWS    OF    CHRIST.  153 

death,  lie  ignores.  We  do  not  say  he  disbelieves  them ;  but  he  says 
that  "  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  side  of  the  subject.  That  is 
God's  side,  which  He  will  take  care  of.  It  is  enough  for  us  to  know 
that  God  deemed  the  death  on  the  cross  necessary,  as  we  know  from 
the  fact  that  it  took  place ;  but  so  soon  as  we  attempt  to  show  ivhy 
it  was  necessary,  we  are  out  of  our  sphere.  The  whole  drift  of  the 
Gospel  in  regard  to  Christ's  death  is  man-ward,  not  God-ward.  It 
seeks  the  reconciliation  of  man  to  God,  not  God  to  man.  And  Christ 
himself  never,  and  the  apostles  very  rarely,  and  then  only  inciden- 
tally, speak  of  His  mission  and  death  on  the  Divine  side,  but  always 
on  the  human  side.  God  loves — He  will  pardon ;  that  is  enough  for 
us  to  know." 

In  a  sermon  on  "Man's  need  of  Christ,"  from  Hebrews  x.  1*7-22, 
in  connection  with  the  first  chapter,  he  said  "  it  was  manifest  that 
all  the  powers  and  attributes  of  Divinity  were  ascribed  to  Christ  by 
the  Bible ;  and  that  if  any  of  the  relations  of  man  to  God,  either  of 
love  or  of  worship,  would  be  idolatry  if  attached  to  Christ,  then 
the  New  Testament  is  the  most  ingeniously  false  and  dangerous 
book  in  existence.  So  far  as  it  is  essential  for  us  to  know,  Christ  is 
God ;  but  when  one  attempts  to  take  the  circle  of  Christ's  being, 
and  lay  it  over  upon  that  of  the  Father's,  to  see  if  the  two  are  exactly 
equal,  he  aspires  to  grasp  what  is  beyond  his  reach,  and  necessarily 
becomes  bewildered  in  endless  confusions  and  inconsistencies." 
And  he  added,  "  I  disapprove  of  all  attempts  to  compare  God  and 
Christ,  because  I  believe  emphatically  that  Christ  is  God.  Neither  do 
I  regard  Christ's  life  as  an  episode  in  His  existence,  but  as  an  essen- 
tial part  of  it,  naturally  proceeding,  as  the  blossoming  time  is  part 
of  the  tree's  growth.  God  had  leaved  in  the  world  already,  but 
when  Christ  came.  He  blossomed,  and  we  took  the  fragrance.  In- 
deed all  we  know,  consciously  and  practically  of  God,  is  what  we 
get  through  Christ.  All  else  is  vague  and  unrealized.  The  Uni- 
tarian says,  '  I  worship  the  Father.'  He  worships  the  same  exist- 
ence that  I  do  when  I  worship  Christ ;  and  all  the  conception  he 
has  of  the  Father,  he  has  gotten  from  Christ.  And  when  I  go  to 
heaven,  I  expect  God  will  meet  me  just  as  Christ  met  His  disciples. 
He  will  take  me  by  the  hand.  He  will  speak  tenderly,  He  will  talk 


154r  nENr.Y    ward    liEECHER. 

wiih  me  sYmpatliizingly,  inquiringly,  lovingly.  I  cannot  separate 
Christ  from  God  in  my  conceptions,  and  all  difficulties  and  discus- 
sions  about  His  human  and  di\ine  nature,  and  how  related  to  one 
another  and  the  Godhead,  arise  from  absurd  attempts  to  bring  God 
to  the  measuring  standard  of  men  and  animals." 

And  we  are  free  to  say,  that  we  have  never  heard  so  impressive, 
so  touching,  and  so  exalted  a  presentation  of  Christ  as  was  con- 
tained in  this  sermon, — Christ,  as  a  living  Saviour,  ever  present,  and 
ever  loving,  to  whom  the  soul  in  its  ecstasy  of  redemption  cries  out, 
"  "WTiom  have  I  in  heaven  but  Thee  ?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  beside  Thee !" 


MR.    BEECHER's   views    OF    CHURCH    MEMBERSHIP. 

Persons  are  admitted  to  Plymouth  Church,  as  to  all  orthodox 
Congregational  churches,  by  assent  to  an  orthodox  creed,  and  by  a 
covenant.  Yet  dissent  from  the  creed  would  not  preclude  admis- 
sion, on  satisfactory  evidence  of  Christian  character.  Mr.  Beecher 
thinks  that  persons  may  be  intellectually  wrong,  and  yet  right  at 
heart.  Christian  love  he  makes  the  test  of  Christian  fellowship,  and 
love  is  expressed  in  action  rather  than  in  opinion.  He  judges  from 
character  rather  than  from  creed,  and  from  the  life  rather  than  the 
belief.  He  notes  that  the  lives  of  some  are  better  than  their  creed, 
and  of  others  not  so  good.  He  would  hold  fellowship  with  all  in 
whom  he  found  communion  of  Christian  feeling  and  sympathy  in 
Christian  work.  Hence  his  invitation  preceding  the  Sacrament  is 
peculiarly  comprehensive.  It  was  on  one  occasion  expressed  as 
follows : 

"  Christ  has  bid  us  do  this  in  remembrance  of  Him ;  and  He  has 
said,  '  Lo !  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world. 
So  let  us  approach  this  table  as  if  He  were  here,  as  He  was  at  that 
supper  of  old.  And  if  there  be  in  this  congregation  any  strangers 
who  would  gladly  join  us,  let  them  come.  I  will  not  ask  for  their 
creeds ;  I  will  not  inquire  if  they  are  church  members,  '  in  good  and 
regular  standing ;'   but  I  will  say,  if  there  is  any  one  here  who 


EKTV^ELATION   AND   IXSPIRATION.  155 

tlirougli  penitence  for  sin,  and  longing  for  a  pure  life,  has  appre- 
hended Christ,  and  found  Him  precious  to  his  soul — it  is  not  we, 
it  is  Christ  who  invites  him  to  sit  at  His  table,  and  to  partake 
with  us  of  this  feast  of  love. "  And  it  should  be  understood  that 
we  use  the  terms  "creed"  and  "belief"  above,  not  in  their  broadest 
sense,  so  as  to  represent  Mr.  Beecher  as  holding  the  opinion  that  it 
matters  not  what  a  man  believes,  for  this  is  as  far  from  the  truth  as 
possible ;  but  rather  that  certain  beliefs  he  esteems  less  essential  than 
some  others  do,  while  entertaining  them  himself. 


MR.    BEECHEr's    views    OF    REVELATION    AND    INSPIRATION.* 

On  these  subjects  we  have  heard  him  preach  two  sermons.  They 
were  thoroughly  studied  and  compacted,  so  that  any  omission,  by  so 
much,  mars  the  completeness  of  the  presentation ;  yet  some  notes 
taken  at  the  time  may  serve  as  valuable  hints  to  those  interested  in 
such  topics.  ]VIr.  Beecher  stated  at  the  outset,  that  no  man  can  form 
a  correct  idea  of  the  Scriptures  till  he  gets  rid  of  all  notions  which 
make  it  merely  a  600^,  prepared  like  other  books.  It  is  not  so  much 
vy^ritten  as  lived^  and  lived  continuously  through  thousands  of  years. 
It  is  the  record  of  the  education  of  the  human  race  by  God,  and 
running  parallel  with  it.  The  great  law  of  its  composition  was, 
that  Truth  should  be  given  with  relation  simply  to  that  which  drew 
it  out. 

You  must  imagine  a  race  in  the  beginning  bom  in  ignorance. 
The  idea  that  Adam  and  Eve  had  stores  of  knowledge,  from  the 
use  of  which  the  race  has  fallen  away,  is  fabulous.  Till  the  deluge, 
the  earth  was  filled  with  overgrown  creatures,  ill-developed  in  their 
social  and  moral  natures.  When  man  came  upon  the  earth,  he  was 
without  knowledge.  The  stars  spake  not  to  him.  He  knew  no  for- 
eign lands.  It  was  centuries  before  the  arts  were  discovered.  He 
lay  down  to  die  upon  herbs  which  had  healing  in  them,  and  he 
knew  it  not.  The  metals  were  known  only  in  their  simplest  uses. 
He  had  no  laws,  no  sciences,  no  books,  till  thousands  of  years  had 

*  Abstract  of  two  sermons. 


156  nEXRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

rolled  away.  And  though  it  is  preposterous  to  discuss  God's  de- 
signs, yet  it  is  not,  to  say,  that  what  God  did,  He  meant  to  do. 
Had  He  meant  to  bring  man  on  the  world  in  full  stature,  man  would 
not  have  walked  through  jfive  thousand  years  in  a  state  of  mental 
somnambulism. 

If  the  race  were  to  step  on  the  earth  as  our  children  do  into  a 
school,  the  Bible  would  have  been  made  for  them,  and  the  first  man 
would  have  had  it  as  well  as  the  last.  We  find  it  already  written 
and  waiting  for  us,  but  the  first  generations  found  not  a  line.  They 
found  only  the  world  into  which  they  were  born.  The  race  has 
evolved  the  Bible,  not  the  Bible  the  race,  except  in  later  days.  God 
educated  men,  that  through  them  He  might  write  the  Bible  for 
later  days.  He  evolved  the  mind  of  man  in  the  process  of  educa- 
tion, and  then  He  told  what  He  had  done,  and  that  is  the  Bible. 

You  will  see  the  importance  of  this  statement,  and  that  by  it  a 
mass  of  rubbish  is  cleared  away.  There  can  be  a  superstitious  wor- 
ship of  the  Book,  as  of  any  thing  else.  K  the  Bible  is  the  expres- 
sion of  God,  then  we  must  interpret  it  in  one  way.  K  it  is  an 
account  of  what  was  done  for  man  by  God,  and  through  man,  then 
we  must  look  at  it  in  another  way. 

Revelation  was  not  an  act  perfonned  upon  the  writers  of  the 
Bible.  It  was  an  event  in  the  life  of  man.  The  Bible  has  always 
followed  the  race  mitil  the  time  of  Christ.  Revelation  was  an  his- 
torical fact  outside  of  the  Bible,  before  it  was  a  recorded  feet  in  the 
Bible.  We  should  suppose,  then,  that  its  truths  would  be  simple, 
and  stated  with  reference  to  the  ripeness  of  the  times.  We  should 
expect  it  to  look  like  a  book  written  in  the  infancy  of  the  race. 
And  you  will  find  that  it  is  so  ;  that  it  is  fragmentary,  and  obnox- 
ious to  criticism,  if  you  subject  it  to  the  canons  of  criticism  by 
which  books  now  are  judged  ;  that  the  earlier  books  would  contain 
a  large  mass  of  matter  useful  and  vital  in  the  first  years,  but  no 
longer  so,  except  as  history.  God  would  not  reveal  any  thing 
which  would  not  be  just  as  true  now  as  then,  but  the  methods 
would  be  transitory.  There  is  not  one  great  truth  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament that  is  not  just  as  true  now  as  when  it  was  written ;  nay, 
rather,  those  truths  rose  like  stains,  and  now  they  shine  like  suns. 


REVELATION   AND   INSPIRATION.  157 

We  understand  so  mucli,  tliat  Faith  to  us  is  as  mucli  more  than 
theirs,  as  an  oak  is  more  than  an  acorn.  But  we  should  expect 
that  the  methods  by  which  God  taught  men  would  be  different  then 
from  now ;  and  so  it  is.  We  should  expect  that  men  would  be  per- 
mitted to  do  things  which  now  they  would  not.  The  truths  stand, 
but  the  methods  change.  You  cannot  take  a  man  forty-five  years 
old  and  make  him  look  at  the  same  picture-books,  and  play  with 
the  same  toys,  as  in  his  childhood.  So  Christ  says  that  many 
things  were  permitted  because  of  "  the  hardness  of  their  hearts." 
God  allowed  certain  developments  in  the  family,  in  the  Church,  in 
the  nation,  till  He  could  do  better.  And  this  attempt  to  go  back  to 
the  old  world,  and  to  those  thing's  which  belong  to  its  infancy — to 
polygamy  and  to  slavery — is  an  attempt  to  make  man  apostatize 
from  his  manhood.  Then  they  were  children,  now  they  are  men. 
Yet  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  great  truths  which  are  fundamental 
and  humanitary  have  disappeared.  They  all  stand,  and  are  truer 
to  us  than  to  them.  The  customs,  the  rites,  the  ceremonies,  are 
gone.  We  have  other  methods  of  obtaining  truth,  and  the  old  ones 
have  been  left  behind,  as  Christ's  grave-clothes  after  He  had  risen. 

The  distinction  between  Revelation  and  Inspiration  is  this :  Reve- 
lation is  the  making  known  of  things  which  were  unknown  to  those 
who  receive  them.  Inspiration  is  a  divine  action  upon  the  human 
soul,  which  leads  a  man  to  make  known  things  or  to  do  things 
which  otherwise  he  would  not  say  or  do.  No  one  needed  a  revela- 
tion to  disclose  to  the  Israelites  the  burning  mountain,  because  they 
were  there  and  saw  it ;  but  if  one  were  to  record  the  facts,  he  might 
need  inspiration  to  enable  him  to  collect  the  salient  points  and  show 
rightly  the  whole  transaction.  Revelation  is  imparting  some  new 
idea.  Inspiration  is  imparting  an  influence  by  which  he  can  know 
what  is  correct.  K  I  tell  my  child  about  seas  and  countries  which 
he  has  never  seen,  I  reveal  it  to  him.  K  I  find  him  telling  it 
to  his  brother  in  a  dull,  sleepy  way,  and  I  quicken  up  his  mind 
by  the  action  of  my  own,  I  act  upon  him  very  much  like  an  inspi- 
ration. I  do  not  give  this  analogy  as  declaring  the  way  in  which 
the  Old  Testament  was  given  to  man,  but  simply  to  show  the  dif- 
ference between  revelation  and  inspiration. 


158  HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

I  understand  the  Scripture  doctrine  of  inspiration  to  be,  that  God 
rules  not  only  by  influencing  the  senses  of  men  in  the  ordinary 
way,  but  that  He  influences  them  by  the  direct  action  of  His  mind 
upon  theirs.  How  this  is  done,  what  is  the  nature  of  this  influ- 
ence, we  do  not  know.  We  may  suggest  that  it  takes  place  in  this 
way  or  that,  but  the  suggestion  is  no  better  than  a  guess,  for  it  is 
one  of  those  things  that  is  beyond  the  sphere  of  Nature  or  Sense  ; 
and  as  He  has  not  disclosed  it  to  us,  we  shall  not  soon  find  it  out. 

The  inspiration  of  the  writers  of  the  Scriptures  was  not  a  separate 
thing,  standing  out  apart  from  all  analogies.  It  was  not  distin- 
guished by  the  fact  that  God's  Spirit  rested  upon  them,  for  his  Spirit 
rests  upon  other  men.  Their  inspiration  was  a  high  and  enduring 
state,  existing  in  the  mind  of  one  man  for  years,  or  of  a  series  of 
men,  so  that  it  often  takes  scores  of  men  to  make  the  events  which 
bring  out  the  truth.  It  is  not  like  the  inspiration  of  the  author, 
who,  thinking  intensely  on  his  subject,  becomes  filled  and  per- 
meated, till  the  thought  bursts  forth  in  glowing  imagery  and  Hving 
words.     It  was  complex  and  laborious. 

God  had  reference  to  the  original  adaptedness  of  the  men  to  the 
work.  For  example,  Moses  was  prudent,  kind,  good,  fertile  in  in- 
vention and  judicious  in  administration;  and  this  he  was  by  nature. 
He  had  the  germs  of  these  qualities  in  him,  and  they  were  devel- 
oped by  God's  Spirit.  "Without  learning,  a  man  is  elementary  all 
his  life ;  and  therefore  Moses  was  educated.  He  was  brought  up  in 
Pharaoh's  court,  in  all  the  learning  of  the  Egyptians.  There  he  was 
tested  in  actual  hfe,  was  foiled,  was  exiled,  and  went  into  banish- 
ment ;  till  all  mental  passion  was  consumed ;  and  at  eighty  years  of 
age  he  began  life ;  and  he  spent  forty  years  more  going  with  this 
people  through  their  education.  As  part  of  that  work,  he  reduced 
to  writing  their  history ;  he  laid  down  a  code  of  laws ;  he  estab- 
lished a  ritual  of  worship ;  and  his  inspiration  covered  all  his  ad- 
ministrative life,  as  well  as  the  time  spent  in  recording  its  history. 

Take  David  as  another  example.  David  had  a  loving  nature,  a 
heart  of  profound  sensibility.  He  was  in  love  all  his  life  long. 
But  this  natural  endowment  was  not  enough.  He  must  be  broken 
by  sorrows,  and  he  was.     He  was  tried  by  filial  ingratitude ;  he 


REVELATION    AND   INSPIRATION.  159 

was  driven  out  of  his  kingdom  ;  he  was  made  to  feel  that  only  God 
stood  between  him  and  destruction.  His  Psalms  are  inspirations, 
but  the  inspiration  rested  upon  him  not  merely  while  his  pen  was 
moving,  but  during  all  his  experimental,  actual  life. 

After  this  came  the  era  of  the  apostasy.  The  nation  was  strip- 
ped and  spoiled,  and  went  into  foreign  lands,  and  the  ten  tribes 
sank,  and  no  man  can  tell  where  they  went  down.  Now  it  was 
needful  that  beacon-lights  should  be  set  up,  to  tell  men  where  they 
should  walk ;  and  God  brought  forward  for  that  purpose  the  Proph- 
ets, who  would  have  been  eminent  men  in  any  age,  by  natural  fac- 
ulties ;  and  these  men  increased  by  God's  influence.  The  future 
was  unveiled  to  them ;  and  thus  inspired,  they  wrote  their  prophe- 
cies, which  are  not  like  the  voice  of  man,  but  of  God,  and  come 
down  to  us  sounding  through  the  ages,  like  the  coming  on  of  storms 
in  mountain  regions. 

At  length  came  the  fulness  of  time.  Now,  all  other  teachers 
were  merged  in  Christ.  He  spoke  those  great  moral  truths  which 
underlie  Humanity.  It  has  been  said  that  He  did  not  teach  much 
that  was  new :  there  is  more  new  truth  and  deeper  truth  in  John's 
Gospel,  than  will  serve  the  world  for  centuries;  and  it  is  truth 
which  is  not  to  be  gotten  by  reading ;  a  man  must  grow  up  to  it  in 
his  moral  nature. 

I  think  those  who  doubt  the  influence  of  the  divine  mind  upon 
men,  cannot  have  a  case  more  insoluble  than  the  proceedings  of  the 
disciples  before  and  after  Pentecost.  Before,  it  was  as  much  as  they 
could  do  to  carry  themselves  alone.  They  did  not  understand 
Christ's  words.  They  could  not  translate  His  parables.  They  were 
scattered  hither  and  thither  by  His  death.  After  His  resurrection 
they  rallied  somewhat,  and  gathered  in  a  prayer-meeting.  Then 
came  that  sound  as  of  a  rushing,  mighty  wind,  and  the  tongues  of 
cloven  fire,  and  instantly  they  are  filled  with  new  hfe.  They  are 
stronger  than  the  whole  world  beside.  No  persecution  can  stay 
them.  They  go  forth  over  the  world,  and  wherever  they  come,  they 
take  the  city,  they  take  the  town,  they  move  great  masses  of  men, 
and  over  all  nations  they  work  gigantic  influences.  God's  inspira- 
tion is  in  them. 


160  IIE^'RY    WARD    BEECUER. 

I  see  no  reason  why  the  account  of  this  change  should  not  be 
taken  literally.  The  most  obvious  is  the  most  philosophical  solution : 
God  gave  them  this  power  by  the  action  of  His  own  mind. 

Their  writings  after  this  are  the  life  of  Christ,  the  history  of  their 
own  preaching,  and  the  letters  which  they  wrote  to  various  churches. 
Their  judgments  were  made  unerring ;  they  recorded  rightly  what 
they  observed  truly ;  and  they  taught  with  authority.  They  were 
mostly  from  the  lower  ranks  of  society,  but  not  of  the  lower  ranks 
of  men.  They  were  eminently  fitted  by  nature  for  their  work. 
And  all  through  the  Bible,  God  employed  men,  as  inspired  men, 
who  had  a  natural  fitness  for  the  special  work.  I  do  not  know  of  a 
case  in  which  a  man  was  called  to  a  work  which  was  so  diflferent 
from  his  nature  as  to  excite  remark.  When  the  work  required  wis- 
dom, God  called  a  wise  man ;  when  learning,  an  educated  man ; 
when  bravery,  a  daring  man ;  when  exalted  poetry,  an  imaginative 
man  ;  and  so  throughout.  Each  was  inspired  so  as  to  act  vrith  in- 
creased power  in  the  line  of  his  fiiculties.  When  human  faculties 
were  suflicient,  they  were  used.  With  things  so  low  as  to  come 
within  the  reach  of  natural  powers,  these  were  employed,  unassisted 
by  inspiration ;  but  when  insufficient,  God  added  His  influence.  At 
times  He  raised  them  up  so  that  they  saw  future  events ;  but  all  in 
strict  analogy. 

Thus  we  see,  that  in  all  times,  from  Moses  and  Job  to  John,  men 
have  been  employed  and  kept  and  guided  so  that  they  should  do, 
without  error,  what  God  wanted  them  to  do ;  so  as  to  work  in  one 
age  for  other  ages. 

The  question  arises.  Has  this  inspiration  stopp;  <I  ?  I  have  said 
that  it  was  under  an  universal  law  that  God  was  accustomed  to  in- 
fluence the  minds  of  men.  I  think  that  God  does  really  inspire  men 
now  ;  but  not  officially,  so  to  speak— rather,  personally.  It  has  not 
the  authority  of  David's  and  John's  inspiration ;  but  I  believe  that 
all  exalted  states  of  mind  are  inspired.  I  do  not  say  that  the  baser 
moods  are  not  also,  but  they  are  not  inspired  of  God. 

A  man  is  made  to  act,  from  the  influence  of  organic  objects ;  from 
hunger  and  cold ;  from  animal  passions ;  from  a  thousand  spheres 


PERSONAL   INSPIRATION.  161 

of  influence  we  draw  motives.  But  tliese  are  the  lower  influences, 
compared  with  the  influence  of  God  upon  the  soul.^  God  has  never 
cast  us  out  of  His  aims.  He  does  not  leave  us  to  ourselves.  The 
strongest,  best  actions  of  men  are  the  work  of  God.  I  think  that  I 
am  inspired,  not  like  a  prophet,  so  that  I  can  say  to  you,  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord ;"  but  I  believe  that  when  I  prepare  a  sermon,  I  have 
the  mind  of  the  Lord  resting  upon  mine.  Compared  with  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Prophets,  it  is  lower,  subordinate,  personal ;  but  it 
is  real,  and  just  as  truly  from  God  as  that  which  rested  on  David. 
I  think  God  inspires  men  for  the  right,  for  duty,  for  liberty,  for  de- 
fence of  the  truth ;  and  I  think  divine  inspiration  is  also  given  to 
those  who  teach  men  the  Beautiful. 

As  a  flower  comes  to  the  use  of  itself  under  the  influence  of  the 
sun,  so  does  a  man  under  the  influence  of  God.  There  are  inspira- 
tions of  God  for  j)ublic  ends.  Those  laborers  that  are  raised  up  to 
lead  men  according  to  His  plans,  have  authoritative  inspiration  which 
enables  them  to  do  for  their  times  what  they  could  not  do  without 
it.  I  look  upon  all  the  Chiefs  of  men  as  walking  in  a  sort  of  inspired 
dream,  doing  what  God  gives  them  to  do ;  and  the  religious  teachers 
as  acting  under  the  influence  of  God's  mind ;  and  so  far  as  they  are 
true,  they  are  true  by  reason  of  God's  influence.  But  such  inspira- 
tion lacks  official  authority.  It  is  given  to  the  man  that  he  may  do 
his  work.  The  men  who  were  required  to  have  an  authoritative 
inspiration  have  passed  away.  The  word  now  spoken  is  true  to  us, 
not  because  it  has  a  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  but  because  it  meets 
the  soul's  want.  Their  work  will  not  be  repeated  again.  What- 
ever remains  can  be  found  out  and  proclaimed,  -without  any  other 
binding  rule  than  the  authority  of  its  own  nature.  But  the  dificr- 
ence  between  inspiration  now  and  then,  is  not  a  diflerence  in  kind, 
but  only  in  degree.  Inspiration  now  is  more  diff'used,  and  it  is  for 
the  circle  in  which  the  man  is  to  be  the  teacher ;  but  it  is  not  so 
exalted,  for  we  have  no  Bible  to  write,  and  we  have  no  times  such 
as  those  in  which  the  prophets  and  apostles  lived.  Our  work  is  to 
take  the  truth  and  the  principles  which  we  have,  and  to  educate 
men  by  them ;  and  in  this  work,  just  in  proportion  as  we  keep  our 

11 


162  HEXKY   WAKD   BEECHEK. 

hearts  pure  and  clear,  we  shall  be  under  the  influence  of  God's 
teaching  and  guidance. 

I  know  of  nothing  which  would  so  disenchant  the  world  as  to 
take  away  this  doctrine  of  the  inspiration  of  God.  I  should  not 
thank  a  man  who,  when  I  was  looking  at  a  picture  and  yielding 
myself  to  the  influence  of  its  beauty,  should  come  and  talk  to  me  of 
oils  and  pigments,  what  mixtures  produced  this  efiect  and  imparted 
that  light.  So  when  a  man  works  back  to  the  elements  in  nature, 
to  the  cells  which  are  the  foundations  of  organization,  in  order  to 
teach  me  that  the  world  grows  of  itself,  I  do  not  thank  him.  I 
don't  care  for  cells :  I  care  not  for  the  voice  of  storms,  or  the  breath 
of  flowers,  if  that  is  all  they  are ;  but  when  I  can  hear  and  see  in 
them  that  which  tells  me  that  God  is  in  the  world,  and  that  His 
soul  is  the  life-blood  of  the  universe,  then  the  outer  world  becomes 
a  different  thing,  and  every  flower  and  leaf  and  bird  and  breeze  has 
a  voice.  If  it  is  so  in  the  outer,  how  much  more  in  the  inner  I  As 
I  look  over  the  human  life  collected  here,  I  do  not  know  how  God 
is  dealing  with  this  one  or  with  that ;  but  if  I  should  cease  to  believe 
that  He  is  dealing  with  you,  not  only  now,  but  at  your  homes,  in 
the  street,  at  the  store,  in  the  shop — if  you  were  to  take  away  from 
me  the  thought  that  God's  Spirit  is  brooding  upon  men,  you  would 
take  away  almost  all  my  interest  in  life.  For  man,  taken  by  him- 
self, apart  from  God's  connection  with  him,  is  the  meanest  thing  on 
earth,  the  most  beggarly  and  contemptible :  there  is  nothing  that  a 
man  can  get  along  with  so  ill  as  himself  But  when  I  think  of  all 
men  as  under  God's  influence,  watched  by  His  providence,  tended 
by  His  love,  constrained  by  His  Spirit,  then  there  is  something  of 
God's  majesty  in  the  meanest,  and  dignity  sufi'usefe  life. 

"When  I  have  that  state  of  mind  in  which  God  sinks  out  of  sight 
and  His  presence  is  lost  to  me,  then  life  loses  its  interest  to  me,  and 
the  circumstances  and  duties  of  life  are  like  an  old  herbarium  dried 
and  faded  out.  But  when  I  ccpne  back  to  a  better  thought,  when 
once  more  I  believe  that  God  is  with  me,  and  I  hear  the  voice  of 
Christ  saying  "I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake  thee,"  then  the 
heart-throbs  fly  again,  and  living  or  dying  I  am  the  Lord's ! 

My  brother,  you  may  not  be  inspired  to  write  a  Bible,  for  that 


VIEWS   OF   PKAYER.  163 

work  is  done.  But  you  have  something  to  do.  You  are  not  born 
by  chance,  not  Avashed  up  on  the  shore  of  time  like  the  shell  of  a 
dead  shell-fish.  God  sends  every  man  into  the  world  on  some 
errand,  and  the  needful  skill  and  strength  to  perform  yours,  you  are 
to  gain  by  the  divine  influence.  Cleanse,  then,  your  minds,  so  that 
the  inspiration  of  God,  resting  upon  you  day  by  day,  may  lead  you 
rightly  to  accomphsh  that  to  which  you  were  sent ;  and  when,  after 
a  few  years,  the  body  is  droj^ped  and  the  soul  is  in  the  presence  of 
God,  we  shall  no  more  need  this  inspiration,  for  we  shall  take  our 
life  from  His  looks ;  and  when  the  ransomed  of  Zion  come  with 
songs,  be  thou  amongst  them,  oh  my  soul !  And  thou  too  be  there, 
my  brother  and  my  sister ;  let  us  dwell  together  in  Heaven  !" 


MR.  BEECHER  S  VIEWS  OF  PRAYER. 

All  questionings  as  to  how  the  prayers  of  mortals  can  change  the 
preordained  plan  of  one  who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and 
is  "  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever,"  Mr.  Beecher  sweeps 
away  by  saying,  that  "  with  the  how  we  mortals  have  nothing  to  do. 
God  will  take  care  of  His  decrees  without  our  assistance,  and  we 
need  not  be  anxious  about  His  immutability.  It  is  enough  for  us  to 
know  that  prayer  is  required — no,  not  so,  but  that  prayer  is  granted, 
a  blessed  privilege  from  God  to  man.  '  While  they  are  yet  speak- 
ing I  will  hear,'  '  Ask  and  it  shall  be  given  you,'  are  assm-ances 
from  God  too  precious  and  too  direct  to  be  lost  amidst  metaphysical 
entanglements  about  God's  sovereignty.  And  not  only  is  prayer 
revealed  through  the  Bible  as  a  mighty  power  for  good  in  human 
affairs,  but  also  through  the  blessed  experiences  of  thousands  of 
Christians.  Prayer  should  be  not  only  an  expression,  but  a  state. 
It  should  be  the  prevailing  posture  of  our  souls.  Prayer  in  words 
has  its  advantages  over  silent  supplication,  because  it  is  a  law  of  the 
mind  that  expression  develops  and  increases  the  feehng,  yet  the 
essential  of  prayer  is  its  truth  to  the  life  of  one's  heart.  God  looks 
at  the  heart.  The  spontaneous  aspiration,  the  unspoken  supplication 
may  WAch  Him  far  quicker  than  the  weli-worded  petition."     Form- 


154  HEXKT    WAED    BEECIIER. 

ality  in  prayer,  or  tlie  use  of  phrases  which  have  lost  their  meaning 
to  the  speaker,  and  are  used  because  others  do,  is  offensive  to  him. 
Neither  does  he  encourage  a  liturgy  for  public  worship,  as  do  some 
of  his  denomination.  The  criticism  by  the  Ritualists,  that  extempore 
praver  shuts  off  the  people  from  all  share  in  public  worship,  he 
meets  by  insisting  on  Congregational  Singing.  To  promote  this  he 
has  been  engaged  for  several  years  in  preparing  a  hymn-book,  which 
is  just  published.  It  contains  137-i  hymns,  accompanied  by  367 
tunes.  It  has  been  a  work  of  great  labor,  manifestly  executed  with 
fidelity  and  enthusiasm.  It  is  exciting  interest  and  discussion. 
"Whether  it  will  be  generally  adopted  remains  to  be  seen.  But  so 
far  as  this  is  certain,  that  by  its  assistance  his  church  will  present 
an  illustration  of  Congregational  Singing  more  impressive  than  ever 
before  reahzed. 


His  proposition  is,  that  suffering  is  not  an  accident,  but  that  it  en- 
ters into  the  constitution  of  this  world,  and  forms  a  part  of  the  Di- 
vine idea.  This  view  is  denied  by  those  who  think  that  suffering 
arises  from  the  violation  of  the  laws  of  the  body ;  that  God  made 
man  only  to  enjoy,  and  that  suffering  is  not  the  result  of  Providence. 
So  far  as  this  view  leads  to  better  obedience  to  the  laws  of  health, 
Mr.  Beecher  sympathizes  with  it ;  yet  he  contends  that  when  all 
men  shall  have,  each  in  his  own  measure,  obeyed  law,  yet  suffering 
will  not  disappear ;  for  although,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  it  comes 
from  violation  of  law,  yet  it  also  adheres  in  the  constitution  of  the 
soul.  In  most  cases  it  is  not  the  suffering  which  is  the  most  painful, 
but  the  sense  which  it  brings  with  it  that  there  is  something  wrong 
— a  misadjustment  somehow — and  that  a  man  loses  somewhat  of 
hope  and  confidence  in  God. 

The  facts  of  this  world  are,  first,  that  all  our  faculties  have  a  dou- 
ble constitution.  They  are  susceptible  equally  to  pain  and  to  plea- 
sure.    Every  man,  as  created  by  God,   has   this   double   nature. 

*  Abstract  of  a  Sermon. 


PROBLEM   OF    EVIL.  165 

Secondly,  destruction  is  as  plainly  written  on  the  outward  world  as 
life  is.  The  world  is  full  of  dangerous  things.  Death  is  in  every 
step  we  take.  The  most  astounding  fact  in  the  globe  is  that  arrange- 
ment by  which  the  life  of  one  race  depends  upon  the  destruction  of 
the  race  below  it,  all  the  way  up  from  animalculoe  to  Man.  Pain  is 
continually  on  the  larboard  or  starboard,  and  life  consists  in  steering 
between.  These  facts  are  notorious,  and  we  must  cither  adopt  the 
old  doctrine  of  two  Gods,  one  of  good  and  another  of  evil,  or  else  al- 
low that  both  pain  and  pleasure  are  of  Divine  origin. 

The  third  fact  is,  that  pleasure  and  pain  are  invariable  concomi- 
tants, and  that  the  more  an  animal  enjoys,  the  more  it  suffers.  The 
two  elements  are  measures  of  each  other.  And  the  higher  in  the 
scale  of  being  one  advances,  the  greater  the  suffering,  as  well  as  the 
greater  the  enjoyment.  And  when  we  reach  man,  we  find  that  the 
lower  he  is  in  the  spiritual  scale,  the  less  he  suffers  and  the  less  he 
enjoys ;  and  the  greater  his  development,  the  greater  are  both  enjoy- 
ment and  suffering.  Hence,  when  Christ's  disciples  asked  Him  if 
they  might  sit  at  His  right  hand  and  left  in  His  kingdom,  He  recog- 
nized this  fact  by  replying :  "  Can  you  drink  of  the  cup  which  I 
drink  of?"  As  much  as  to  say,  that  such  a  lofty  position  can  only 
be  attained  through  corresponding  suffering. 

From  these  facts  it  is  rational  to  infer  that  happiness  is  not  the  ob- 
ject of  our  life,  but  that  the  whole  creation  is  arranged  for  the  edu- 
■  cation  or  the  highest  development  of  the  human  race,  through  the 
twofold  arrangement  of  pleasure  and  pain.  And  he  who  attempts  to 
rise  with  happiness  and  without  pain,  is  trying  to  fly  with  one  wing. 

Secondly,  that  the  highest  attainments  are  only  reached  through 
the  greatest  suffering ;  and  hence  that  a  person  should  not  feel  that 
God  is  angry  with  him  because  he  suffers — because  he  is  bereaved,  or 
poor,  or  persecuted ;  but  rather  that  God  is  fitting  him  for  some 
higher  post,  that  He  is  giving  him  superior  advantages ;  or,  as  the 
Bible  says,  "  whom  He  loveth  He  chasteneth."  With  this  view,  suf- 
fering becomes  a  part  of  happiness.  We  can  fulfil  the  apostle's 
injunction,  to  "  rejoice  always ;  and  again  I  say,  rejoice."  Trials  cease 
to  be  opaque,  and  become  luminous. 

Thirdly,  ^YQ  may  be  sure  that  God  will  administer  suffering  in  that 


166  HENRY   WAKD    BEECHEE. 

way,  and  to  that  amount,  which  will  serve  the  highest  good  of  the 
race.  Men  say :  "I  do  not  deserve  to  suffer  more  than  that  other 
one  •  and  why  is  it  that  my  troubles  come  so  thick,  and  my  heart  is 
so  wruno"  ?"  Just  as  if  God  were  a  Justice  and  he  a  criminal,  and 
every  blow  was  for  some  sin.  Not  so.  The  problem  of  how  much 
a  man  ought  to  suffer  involves  an  amount  of  elements  which  no  hu- 
man being  can  grasp.  All  his  vaiious  faculties,  his  mission  in  hfe, 
his  future  position  in  heaven ;  all  his  relations  to  others  and  to  hu- 
manity, are  to  be  taken  into  the  account,  and  one  must  trust  the 
whole  matter  with  God. 

And,  fourthly,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  all  this  immensely 
intensified  elaboration  of  this  hfe  is  to  fit  us  for  another  existence. 
In  that  there  is  to  be  no  pain  :  "  All  tears  shall  be  wiped  away." 

Hence  we  should  keep  in  mind  that  character,  not  happiness,  is 
the  end  of  life.  That  a  man's  life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of 
the  things  which  he  possesseth,  but  in  what  he  is.  That  we  should 
not  flinch  from  pain,  nor  murmur,  but  bear  it  bravely.  That  life  here 
is  not  the  highest  good.  And  that  when  one's  friends  die,  we  should 
go  to  the  grave,  not  singing  mournful  psalms,  but  scattering  flowers. 
Death  was  -v^Tccked  lonor  aijo.  Christ  has  taken  the  crown  from  the 
t3a'ant.  And  when  Christians  walk  in  black,  and  sprinkle  the 
ground  with  tears,  then  is  the  very  time  when  they  should  illu- 
minate ;  and  as  the  disciples  found  the  angels  in  Christ's  grave,  so  in 
the  grave  where  any  of  His  loved  disciples  have  lain  are  there  an- 
gelic messengers  of  consolation,  if  we  would  only  see  them.  Then 
let  us  thank  God  that  in  this  world  of  suffering  there  is  also  death, 
since  death  brings  us  to  God  and  immortahty.  Yes,  death  is  the 
medicine  of  life :  Hereafter,  the  ex2:>lanation  of  Here." 


MR.    BEECHER'S    rniLOSOPHY. 


There  are  certain  elements  of  Mr.  Beecher's  philosophy  which  have 
an  important  bearing  on  his  preaching.  We  have  had  no  means  of 
ascertaining  these  more  advantageous  than  his  pubHc  discourses; 
but  it  is  not  difficult  to  discern  a  man's  philosophy  from  his  ser- 


PHILOSOPHY.  167 

mons,  because  religious  belief,  not  less  than  intellectual,  is  typed 
by  it. 

Mr.  Beecber  does  not  adopt  the  "  selfish  system"  of  Paley,  which 
bases  the  distinction  between  right  and  wrong  on  the  principle  of 
self-interest,  which  assumes  that  an  act  is  right  because  it  accords 
with  one's  advantage,  and  not  according  to  eternal  principles  of  right, 
inwrought  with  the  constitution  of  the  universe.  Neither  does  he 
subscribe  to  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  which,  in  making  no  distinc- 
tion between  the  Reason  and  the  Understandings  and  in  allowing  to 
Man  no  innate  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  makes  no  distinction  be- 
tween Man  and  an  intelligent  brute,  except  that  of  degree  or  a  higher 
development ;  and  leads  to  the  logical  deduction  that  Man,  being 
destitute  of  a  fixed  guide  of  morals  within  himself,  cannot  be  held 
responsible  for  moral  conduct.  But  !Mr.  Beecher  holds  to  that  phi- 
losophy which,  in  opposition  to  those  two,  both  in  respect  to  the  ab- 
solute idea  of  right,  in  distinction  from  the  impulse  of  self-interest, 
and  in  regard  to  the  supremacy  of  the  pure  Reason  and  the  innate 
moral  nature,  sets  forth  man  as  a  being  responsible  for  his  acts,  be- 
cause possessed  of  a  natural  conscience. 

This  indwelling  conscience  receives  aid  from  other  sources,  as  from 
the  revealed  will  of  God,  in  the  Bible,  in  His  providence,  and  in  His 
created  works  or  Nature ;  but  it  existed  as  the  guide  before  the  Bible 
was  made,  and  before  man  had  learnt  the  mind  of  the  Creator  from 
His  providential  dealings,  or  had  evolved  His  attributes  from  the  en- 
compassing universe.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  accurate  to  say, 
that  the  judgment  is  aided  from  external  sources,  and  that  the  con- 
science stands  in  all  as  the  infalhble  authority,  the  "  image  of  God'' 
in  which  man  was  created. 

In  this  philosophy  consists  much  of  the  force  and  pungency  of  his 
preaching ;  because  he  appeals  directly  to  conscience,  ignoring  all  mo- 
tives of  prudence  or  self-interest  to  repentance  and  love,  and  bringing 
powerfully  to  bear,  as  immutable  facts,  man's  free  agency  and  indi- 
vidual responsibility. 

From  this  Mr.  Beecher  advances  to  the  position,  which  is  funda- 
mental in  morals  as  in  ethics,  that  our  decisions — not  only  in  regard  to 
the  right  and  wrong  of  actions,  but  also  in  regard  to  questions  of 


l^S  HENKY    WARD    BEECHER. 

judgment  and  discernments  in  Art  and  Taste,  and  mdeed  in  regard  to 
all  the  positions  Tvliicli  the  human  soul  takes  in  its  -wide-sweeping 
domain  of  moral,  intellectual,  sesthetical,  and  spiritual  concerns, 
(not  embracing  facts  addressed  to  the  physical  understanding,  like 
those  of  mathematics) — that  our  decisions  originate  in,  and  arc 
made,  not  by  the  Head  (in  popular  phrase),  not  by  the  Understanding, 
operated  on  by  argument,  not  by  the  reasoning  faculty,  not  logically 
deduced  from  premises ;  but  that  our  decisions  are  made  by  the 
Heart  (in  popular  phrase) — by  that  part  of  the  spiritual  nature  which 
includes  feeling,  emotion,  and  conscience.  Hence,  if  the  heart  is 
only  right,  if  it  is  pure  and  true,  our  decisions  will  be  right.  That 
men  use  the  head  to  hunt  up  reasons  for  decisions  already  made  by 
the  heart,  and  heap  around  with  defensive  argument  positions 
already  taken ;  that  God,  through  the  influence  of  His  Spirit, 
exerts  a  direct  illuminating  power  on  the  heart  (or  the  conscience), 
thus  assisting  the  eftbrts  of  man  towards  hoHness;  that  Regene- 
ration is  the  initiative  in  this  new  course  of  purity,  and  light, 
and  truth,  and  life;  and  that  when  Christ  said,  "The  light  of 
the  body  is  the  eye ;  if  therefore  thine  eye  be  single,  thy  whole 
body  shall  be  full  of  light;  but  if  thine  eye  be  evil,  thy  whole 
body  shall  be  full  of  darkness,"  he  meant  to  illustrate  this  fundamen- 
tal spiritual  truth  of  the  "  luminousness  of  the  heart^'^  which,  when 
true,  radiates  before  a  man,  upon  his  path  through  life,  infallible 
light,  which,  in  the  heart's  perfection,  shines  full-orbed  and  glorious, 
impelled  in  transcendent  clearness  by  the  indwelHng  Spirit;  and 
that  "  if  the  light  that  is  in  thee  be  darkness,"  if  the  heart  be  cor 
rupt  and  unfit  for  the  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  verily  may 
Christ  say,  "  How  great  is  that  darkness !" 

It  cannot  fail  to  be  seen  that  this  position  is  fundamental.  And 
the  term  "  radical,"  sometimes  apphed  to  Mr.  Beecher's  views  loosely 
and  falsely,  may  properly  attach  to  this ;  because  it  lies  at  the  root 
of  philosophical  and  moral  systems,  and  is  calculated  to  unsettle 
established  notions,  which  have  come  to  be  regarded  as  permanent 
institutions.  And  yet  he  should  by  no  means  be  misapprehended,  as 
extending  the  doctrine  of  the  direct  influence  of  God's  Spirit,  so  for 
as  to  paralyze  judgment  and  reason  by  supposed  direct  revelations ; 


LUMINOUSNESS   OF   THE   HEART.  IgQ 

or  depreciate  the  value  of  tlie  Bible  before  pretended  inspirations 
Neither  does  he  detract  from  the  value  of  laws  and  rules  ;  "  they  are 
leading-strings  to  bring  us  along  the  path  of  life  to  God ;  they  are 
the  chart  of  the  navigator;  they  are  the  experiences  of  those  of 
more  generous  endowment,  set  up  as  guides  for  the  rest  to  follow 
There  are  many  to  whom  they  are  necessary.     In  their  moral  infir- 
mity some  need  help,  and  rules  are  their  crutches,  which,  if  they 
throw  down,  they  fall  themselves.     But  when  a  man  attains  to 
lummousness  of  feehng,  he  does  not  need  laws  to  guide  him.   -He 
will  not  despise  or  break  right  laws ;  but  he  will  go  precisely  as  they 
direct,  not  because  of  them,  but  because  he  cannot  help  it ;  and  Love 
is  the  source  of  this  luminousness.    The  feehng  of  love  is  a  better 
guide  than  any  law.     You  cannot  make  any  law  so  good  for  the 
heart  which  loves,  that  it  will  not  rise  above  and  overflow  it.    So 
long  as  a  man  needs  a  law,  he  must  have  it ;  but  the  moment  he' says, 
*  The  law  requires  me  to  do  so  much,  and  I  want  to  do  more  than 
that,'  then  he  can  do  without  law.     He  is  a  law  unto  himself,  bet- 
ter than  external  rules.     And  the  highest  type  of  character  is'  that 
which  is  made  up  of  feehngs  so  luminous,  that  a  man  takes  a  higher 
path  than  he  can  ever  take,  if  he  is  bound  by  rules  and  precedents. 
And  hence  it  is  that  Christ  said— 'Love  is  the  fulfilling  of 

THE  LAW.'  " 

As  was  said  of  the  connection  between  Mr.  Beecher's  faith  in  the 
personahty  and  providence  of  God,  and  his  cheerful,  quiet,  and  reli- 
ant character ;  so  do  we  esteem  this  phUosophy  ta  he  at  the  bottom 
of  the  spontaneity,  vigor,  and  rehance  of  his  Extempore.  Indeed, 
the  two  beliefs  stand  so  close,  as  interchangeably  to  control  action 
and  speech.  He  trusts  God's  care  in  life,  and  is  serene;  he  trusts 
God's  inspiration  in  the  pulpit,  and  is  brave.  Every  one  is  impressed 
with  the  genuineness  and  frankness  of  what  he  says.  It  is  manifest 
that  the  man  has  faith  in  his  hnpulses.  Prudence  has  given  the 
helm  to  conviction.  The  fear  of  man  has  recoiled  before  the  voice 
of  God.  He  not  only  says  what  he  thinks,  but  what  he  feels.  He 
not  only  says  nothing  disbelieved,  but  nothing  unbelieved.  He 
preaches  and  prays  no  further  than  he  has  lived.  His  utterances 
are  experiences,  and  this  is  a  secret  of  his  power.     It  disarms  criti- 


170  HENRY    WAED   BEECHER. 

cism.  We  all  love  tlie  genuine,  and  hate  Cant.  "V^Tiat  care  we  if 
the  man  does  oflfend  taste,  or  violate  hoary  rules  of  pulpit  rhetoric,  or 
discard  sacred  ruts  of  long-travelled  Exposition  ?  "  At  any  rate,  he 
savs  what  he  means,  and  I  can  understand  what  he  means,"  out- 
speaks the  blunt  hearer.  "  Whether  he's  orthodox  or  not,  I  can't 
say ;  but  he's  a  noble  man,  and  I  believe  in  him." 

A  friend  once  wrote  us  his  impressions  in  the  following  words : 
"  I  have  been  to  hear  H.  W.  B.  for  the  first  time,  and  I  never  shall 
forget  the  sermon.  The  rain  was  pouring  in  torrents,  but  his 
church  was  crowded.  His  text  was,  '  For  they  being  ignorant  of 
God's  righteousness,  and  going  about  to  establish  their  own  right- 
eousness, have  not  submitted  themselves  unto  the  righteousness  of 
God.'  He  commenced  with  the  statement,  that  *  every  man  has  a 
conscience,*  and  proceeded  to  expound  the  truth,  showing  that 
each  one,  with  this  innate  idea  of  right  and  wrong,  was  con- 
stantly striving  to  justify  himself,  according  to  his  standard  of  right — 
'  going  about  to  establish  his  own  righteousness.'  He  then  presented  a 
number  of  ways  resorted  to  in  this  eagerness  to  justify  one's  self — the 
devices  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  conscience,  dispersing  '  refuges 
of  hes'  without  mercy,  and  identifying  and  parcelling  characters, 
with  a  nicety  and  fidelity  which  left  those  who  were  not  actually 
located,  in  a  very  small  minority.  He  appealed  directly  to  self- 
consciousness  and  the  moral  natm'e ;  and  it  was  useless  to  evade. 
The  sermon  was  one  hour  and  a  quarter  long,  yet  weariness  never 
occurred  to  me ;  and  I  lost  not  a  word.  It  was  extempore,  and  yet 
evidently  the  result  of  severe  study.  The  heads,  which  were  many, 
were  written  out,  and  showed,  by  their  close  and  accurate  wording,  the 
analysis  they  had  undergone.  Therefore,  when  by  his  logic  he  had 
convinced  the  understanding,  by  his  lucid  presentation  of  truth 
bowed  the  reason  and  roused  the  conscience,  then  the  feelings  of 
all  were  in  his  power,  and  he  made  the  nerves  to  thrill,  and  the 
tears  to  start,  as  I  never  experienced  in  a  religious  assembly.  A  lady 
behind  me  had  shown  some  emotion ;  but  when,  in  portraying  the 
relation  between  Christ  and  the  sinner,  he  said,  '  Christ  stands  like  a 
father  to  his  prodigal  son,  and  he  says,  My  son,  my  son,  let  the  past 
all  be  sunk  between  us,  and  we  will  be  to  each  other  as  in  days  gone 


in 

by — you  shall  love  me,  and  I  will  love  you,  and  we  will  live  to- 
gether as  we  used  to  do,'  her  feelings  broke  over  control,  and  she 
wept  aloud.  A  young  Enghshman  sat  by  me,  who  had  been  pre- 
vailed upon  to  attend  church  instead  of  a  social  circle.  His  Hp 
quivered  in  effort  to  restrain  emotion ;  but  it  would  not  do ;  the 
tears  started  from  his  eyes,  he  was  overcome.  And  it  seemed  to  me 
that  a  person  who  had  never  seen  a  Bible  could  from  that  sermon 
have  apprehended  the  essential  truths  of  Christianity." 


The  union  of  humor  with  seriousness  is  by  some  esteemed  rare ; 
by  some,  impossible;  and  by  others,  inconsistent;  yet  a  careful 
analysis  and  observation  will  show  all  these  notions  to  be  incorrect. 
The  universal  fact  will  appear,  that  in  those  strong  religious  charac- 
ters, whose  moral  power  controls  the  circle  in  which  they  move, 
whether  compressed  within  a  neighborhood,  or  embracing  a  conti- 
nent, the  appreciation  of  humor  always  exists,  and  usually  the  ge- 
nius for  it.  Indeed,  a  foundation  of  earnestness  seems  essential  to 
the  development  of  the  highest  form  of  humor,  as  the  delicatest 
carving  must  be  wrought  out  of  the  soKdest  wood ;  and  mirthful- 
ness  of  character  is  evidence  of  genuineness,  as  fi-uit-bearing  trees 
alone  produce  gay  blossoms. 

Hence,  in  humor  Mr.  Beecher  is  gifted.  He  exhales  it  as  a  flower 
does  perfume.  In  days  of  summer  recreation  in  the  country,  it  is 
beyond  compare  :  like  a  mountain  stream,  it  flows  limpid,  spark- 
ling, incessant,  and  roaring.  It  is  up  before  the  sun  ;  it  droops  not 
beneath  meridian  heat;  and  birds  and  flowers  have  closed  their 
eyes  long  ere  it  goes  to  sleep. 

But  humor  T\-ith  Mr.  Beecher  is  not  alone  a  recreation.  It  is  a 
power.  He  brings  it  designedly  and  efiectively  to  bear  upon  errors 
or  conceits  undeserving  the  more  ponderous  artillery  of  serious  ar- 
gument. He  would  not  exclude  humor  from  the  pulpit.  Yet  his 
indulgence  in  it  has  been  misrepresented  and  exaggerated  by  loose 
gossips.     What  is  called  his  "  pulpit  humor  "  consists  mostly  in  ajpt 


172  HEXKT   WAKD   BEECHEK. 

illustration.  Those  sensations  which  more  than  once  in  a  discourse 
run  electrically  through  his  audience — a  murmiu*  and  a  thrill,  which 
is  a  shadow  of  applause — are  the  consequence,  not  of  a  funny  speech, 
nor  of  an  indecorous  speech,  but  of  a  good  illustration,  which,  by  its 
originahty  and  aptness,  pictures  to  the  mind  the  abstract  truth  in 
such  liM'ug  light,  that  the  heart  inevitably  throbs  quicker. 

Trained  minds  are  fed  and  stimulated  by  abstract  truth;  but 
most  minds,  as  people  average,  can  see  truth  but  dimly,  except 
when  made  concrete  in  illustrations.  They  must  have  word-pic- 
tures. But  it  is  not  the  picture  which  charms  them ;  it  is  the  truth 
which  the  picture  reveals.  They  see,  at  last,  with  clear  vision,  that 
which,  for  years  beneath  other  pulpits,  they  have  been  in  vain 
straining  eyes  to  discern,  and  they  rejoice.  Would  that  every 
preacher  might  apprehend  this  fact  of  the  human  mind  ! 

This  power  of  illustration  is  wonderful  with  him.  He  presses 
every  thing  into  his  service  ;  nay,  rather,  creation  comes,  as  it  were, 
and  lays  her  treasures  at  his  feet.  And  to  a  mind  like  his,  illustra- 
tions are  as  vivid  as  if  portrayed  on  canvas,  and  so  abounding,  that 
he  uses  but  a  fraction  of  those  which  come  to  him.  It  is  manifest 
that  earth,  and  air,  and  sea  are  to  him  full  of  symbols,  and  every 
object  illustrates  spiritual  truths.  We  do  not  say  that  every  preach- 
er can  have  this  affluence  of  illustration ;  yet  any  one  who  has  soul 
enough  to  preach  at  all,  can,  by  the  right  looking  at  Nature  and 
things,  acquire  a  facility  for  tracing  analogies  between  the  external 
and  the  spiritual,  which  will  illuminate  both  heart  and  sermon. 

To  judge  justly  of  a  man's  style,  we  must  take  into  account  the 
purpose  he  seeks  to  gain.  One  writes  differently  for  a  daily  paper 
and  a  Quarterly.  It  is  manifest  that  Mr.  Beecher  seeks  to  reach  the 
heart  of  the  people.  He  does  not  aim  too  high.  He  would  not 
fire  too  low,  but  would  send  into  the  thickest  of  the  ranks  the  ar- 
rows of  conviction.  Neither  does  he  fire  at  random,  nor  at  a  theo- 
logical mark,  nor  at  some  old  dismantled  fort  of  en'or,  which  the 
enemy  long  ago  deserted.  He  does  not  belong  to  the  regular 
army,  who,  trained  at  seminaries,  are  only  effective  when  in  the 
way  of  prescribed  evolutions ;  but  corresponds  to  that  select  body  of 
riflemen  at  the  battle  of  Saratoga,  who,  each  on  his  own  hook,  un- 


"pulpit  humoe."  173 

erringly  picked  out  epauletted  officers.  And  justice  can  be  done  to 
good  taste  by  those  whose  refined  sensibilities  are  offended  by  Mr. 
Beecher's  illustrations;  and  yet  even  those  persons  conclude  that 
they  would  not  have  Mr.  Beecher  do  otherwise.  He  was  once  illus- 
trating the  difference  between  established  character  and  occasional 
impulse  by  a  supposed  dialogue,  as  follows  :— «  A  friend  says  to  me, 
'  What  a  selfish,  hard,  miserly  man  Mr.  So  and  So  is  !  He  never 
does  a  generous  act.'  I  reply,  '  Ai-e  not  you  mistaken  ?  Certainly 
you  are,  for  I  heard  the  other  day  of  his  giving  a  barrel  of  flour  to 
a  poor  widow  with  six  children.'  '  Yes,  yes  (with  skeptical  inflec- 
tion), that  may  be  so,  but  I  reckon  it's  the  first  spark  seen  out  of 
that  man's  chimney  for  twenty  years.'  "  This,  perhaps,  is  as  hu- 
morous as  any  thing  in  a  sermon  of  his.  It  certainly  pleased  his 
audience  as  much.  Or  take  another  bolder  illustration.  «  A  rich 
man  ought  to  be  like-  a  fire-engine,  which  sucks  in  at  one  end  and 
spouts  out  at  the  other  (with  accompanying  upward  gesture,  drama- 
tizing the  operation),  putting  out  the  fires  of  hell  which  the  devil  is 
always  kindling." 

In  his  famous  speech  at  the  MetropoHtan  meeting,  to  celebrate 
the  passage  of  the  Maine  Law,  he  said,  "They  tell  us  there  will  be 
a  reaction  against  the  Maine  Law.  A  reaction !  "We  can't  go  back ! 
You  might  as  well  try  to  crowd  a  full-grown  chicken  back  into  its 
shell." 

He  was  once  illustrating  (in  a  week-day  lecture,  the  connection 
between  freedom  and  religious  institutions  in  Kansas)  what  he 
styled  "the  moral  power  of  a  Sharp's  rifle,"  and  said :  "  I  am  a  peace 
man.  I  believe  in  moral  suasion.  I  want  to  see  Kansas  covered 
with  churches,  and  tracts,  and  Bibles ;  but  just  now  I  know  of  noth- 
ing so  likely  to  keep  the  peace  as  a  good  supply  of  Sharp's  rifles. 
It's  wonderful  the  amount  of  moral  suasion  they  have  over  those 
Missourians.^  '  Send  the  Bible,'  do  you  say,  to  those  Border  Ruffians  ? 
Why,  the  Bible  is  addressed  to  the  conscience,  and  they  haven't  any. 
You  might  as  well  read  the  Bible  to  a  herd  of  buffaloes !" 

This  idea  he  afterwards  enlarged  into  an  article  (replying  to 
attacks  made  upon  him  by  two  religious  newspapers),  from  which  we 
make  extracts. 


174  HENEY    AVAKD    BEECHEE. 

"  Is  the  doctrine  of  personal  physical  self-defence  wrong  ?  Is  it 
wrong  for  a  community  to  defend  itself  by  force  against  force  ?  Or, 
if  physical  resistance  to  physical  violence  is  right,  does  it  mean  that 
the  people  of  Kansas  had  no  just  occasion  of  alarm,  and  no  reason 
for  arms  ?  Or,  is  the  offence  only  this,  that  a  clergyman  should  en- 
coura<^e  and  praise  those  wise  men  for  doing  their  duty  courageously 
when  wickedly  attacked  ?  Or,  is  it  only  the  comparison  made  be- 
tween the  eflficiency  of  Sharp's  rifles  and  the  Bible  when  employed 
to  beat  off  drunken  vagabonds  ? 

"  The  facts  were  simply  these :  A  peaceful  town  was  for  many 
days  threatened  with  assault  and  destruction  by  a  lawless  band  of 
marauders,  who,  in  morals,  character,  and  purpose,  were  plainly 
nothing  different  from  so  many  pirates  on  the  sea,  or  bandits  upon 
the  land.  To  attempt  to  restrain  such  men  only  by  an  appeal  to 
their  justice,  to  their  respect  for  human  rights,  to  their  conscience — 
men  raked  together  from  the  purlieus  of  a  frontier  slave  State, 
drugged  with  whisky,  and  hounded  on  by  broken-down  and  desper- 
ate politicians — to  neglect  proper  means  of  defence,  to  refuse  arms 
and  intrenchments,  and  to  trust  goods,  dwellings,  and  life  to  such 
a  frenzied  crew  of  unmitigated  scoundrels,  would  have  been  little 
short  of  absolute  madness. 

"  But  these  very  men  do  understand  the  force  of  courage ;  of 
firmness ;  of  the  spectacle  of  armed  citizens,  who  will  calmly  de- 
fend their  rights  with  such  force  as  may  be  necessary  for  their 
preservation. 

"  We  praised  them  for  their  wisdom  and  their  courage.  We 
praise  them  again.  Their  stand  was  noble,  and  salutary  to  the 
country.  And  we  said,  that  in  the  circumstances  in  which  the  men 
of  Lawrence  were  placed,  the  knowledge  that  they  had  of  Sharp's 
rifles,  and  were  determined  to  use  them,  would  produce  a  more  salu- 
tary impression  upon  vagabond  politicians,  and  work  more  eflSciently 
for  peace,  than  all  the  moral  suasion  in  the  world.  Since  the  world 
began,  moral  suasion  has  always  been  the  better  for  a  little  some- 
thing to  stand  on.  Honesty  is  a  very  good  thing,  but  laws,  courts, 
and  oflBcers  help  men  very  much  in  the  exercise  of  that  moral 
grace. 


175 

"  The  Bible  is  a  book  of  moral  truths.  In  that  sphere  where 
moral  truths  are  proper,  it  stands  before  all  other  instruments.  But 
moral  influences  are  not  designed  nor  adapted  to  every  work  which 
needs  to  be  done.  In  engineering,  in  husbandry,  in  navigation,  there 
are  powers  which  are  mightier  in  these  spheres  than  a  Bible.  Where 
timber  is  to  be  felled  and  hewn,  an  axe  is  better  than  a  Bible.  Nor 
is  it  detracting  from  the  merit  of  the  Book  to  say  so.  If  a  child 
is  learning  its  figures,  an  Arithmetic  is  better  than  a  Bible.  If 
thieves  and  burglars  are  to  be  morally  reformed,  the  Bible  is  the 
fountain  of  right  influence.  But  while  a  thief  is  picking  your 
pocket,  or  a  burglar  is  prying  open  your  door,  would  you  treat  him 
to  a  Bible  or  a  police  oflBcer  ? 

"It  is  the  merest  captiousness  of  a  fault-finding  disposition  to 
make  it  an  ofience  for  a  man  to  say  that  there  are  cases  in  which 
physical  forces  produce  moral  efiects  more  certainly  than  the  highest 
moral  truths.  And  if  there  ever  was  a  case  it  was  this  very  one  in 
hand.  The  drunken  rabble  had  been  taught  that  courage  was  the 
height  of  manhood,  and  that  cowardice  was  the  most  despicable  vice. 
They  had  been  taught  that  a  Yankee  was  a  coward  to  his  heart's 
core,  that  the  smell  of  powder  was  more  potent  upon  his  fear  than 
even  money  upon  his  avarice. 

"  When,  then,  these  ignorant  fellows  saw  courage  added  to  thrift ; 
a  calm,  unboastful,  but  immovable  determination  ta  defend  their 
rights,  and  to  die  rather  than  to  yield  one  hair's  breadth  of  principle, 
it  inspired  both  respect  and  fear ;  and  there  can  be  no  question,  iD 
the  minds  of  any  who  know  what  such  sort  of  men  are  made  of, 
that  this  armed  courage  of  the  Kansas  emigrants  did  more  to  pro- 
duce a  recognition  of  their  rights,  than  a  hundred  sermons  or  a 
thousand  Bibles.  And  we  say  again,  and  with  more  emphasis  than 
ever  before,  that  when  men  have  been  left  ignorant  and  uneducated, 
when  Northern  moral  imbecility  has  left  them  without  the  least  re- 
spect for  the  rights  of  Northern  men,  when  drunk  with  whisky,  and 
urged  on  by  brawling  leaders,  it  is  no  time  to  deal  with  them  by 
Bibles.  That  work  should  have  been  done  before.  That  being 
neglected,  and  the  crew  of  infuriate  wretches  being  on  the  eve  of  a 
murderous  assault,  the  sword  and  the  rifle  are  now  in  order." 


176  HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

He  once  said  of  those  who  tiy  to  interpret  John's  Book  of  Reve- 
lation, by  accurate  calculation,  as  follows  :  "  Those  who  with  a  pair 
of  compasses  and  measuring-hne  seek  to  get  at  the  truth  of  these 
glowino-  pictures  of  John's  Revelation,  who  add  and  subtract  and 
divide  who  try  to  find  a  Caesar  in  some  lion,  and  a  Bonaparte  in 
some  he-goat ;  who  would  reduce  to  mathematical  precision  these 
large,  resplendent,  glowing  illustrations  of  universal  truths — the  great 
truth  that  God  rules,  that  justice  will  triumph  at  last,  that 
oppression  will  not  always  reign — those  inspired  images  by  which 
the  Christian  heart  may  be  strong  and  quiet,  during  all  the 
long  days  of  discouragement  and  persecution,  when  the  wicked 
taunt  and  say,  '  Where  is  your  God — where  is  your  higher  law  V — 
when  wealth  and  high  ci^'il  station  testify  on  the  side  of  wrong — 
those  precise,  unimaginative,  barren  minds,  who  overlook  all  this, 
and  study  Revelation  as  they  would  a  mathematical  problem — why, 
they  might  as  well  measure  one  of  Michael  Angelo's  pictures  by 
the  square  inch,  and  say  it  was  better  than  Raphael's,  because  two 
feet  larger ;  they  might  as  well  weigh  their  mother's  love  with  a  pair 
of  steelyards  !"  Now  what  says  the  cultivated  hearer  to  this  ?  "  I 
do  not  like  it  ?"  Verj  well,  you  do  not  like  it  for  yourself — ^you 
would  have  been  altogether  satisfied  if  he  had  stopped  with  the 
illustration  of  Raphael's  picture,  for  that  filled  your  mind.  But  re- 
member, that  besides  you,  in  that  house,  were  a  thousand  people 
who  had  never  been  inspired  by  Art,  but  w^ho  did  know  a  mother's 
love ;  who  had  never  seen  a  picture  by  Raphael,  but  had  seen  a  pair 
of  steelyards.  Was  it  not  best  to  clinch  the  truth  in  their  minds, 
as  well  as  yours,  even  though  the  kitchen  must  be  visited  as  well  as 
the  Picture  Gallery  ? 

Mr.  Beecher  is  peculiar  in  his  habit  of  remarks  when  giving  out 
notices.  He  sometimes  talks  for  a  half  hour  before  the  sermon,  at 
which  times  he  brings  the  Secular  and  Rehgious  into  juxtaposition, 
discussing  week-day  afi'airs  from  the  Sabbath  stand-point.  His  say- 
ings at  this  time  are  marked  by  irresistible  good  sense,  happy  in- 
sight, boldness,  bluntness  often,  and  not  a  little  entertainment.  And 
in  a  discussion  of  his  pulpit  humor,  it  is  just  to  him  to  note,  that 
most  of  those  sayings  which  circulate  the  country  as  specimens  of 


177 

his  pulpit  oratory,  were  not  said  in  sermons,  but  in  this  preliminary- 
interlude.  Moreover,  the  temperament  of  such  a  man  must  be 
considered.  We  doubt  not  he  is  sometimes  humorous  by  feature 
or  tone,  when  he  is  entirely  unaware  of  it.  And  yet,  with  all  allow- 
ance, it  is  fair  to  recognize  the  fact,  that  he  lessens  the  effect  of  his 
solemn  appeals,  in  the  hearts  of  some,  by  his  "  hits,"  and  leads  very 
excellent  people  to  wish  that  he  had  "  left  out  that  one  sharp  sen- 
tence." 

We  have  dwelt  at  length  upon  the  two  topics  of  theological 
systems  and  pulpit  humor,  because  Mr.  Beecher's  views  on  these  are 
more  warmly  approved  or  more  severely  criticised  than  all  his  other 
views ;  and  because  upon  these,  opinions  split ;  and  while  one  Chris- 
tian enthusiastically  maintains  that  he  is  "  the  Paul  of  the  nineteenth 
century,"  a  brother  Christian  denounces  him  as  "  rearing  up  a  gen- 
eration of  scoffers,"  and  forbids  the  household  to  hear  him  preach. 
But  to  form  a  fair  estimate,  the  length  of  our  discussion  on  the  subject 
of  theologies  must  not  be  made  the  measure  of  the  comparative 
space  Mr.  Beecher  devotes  to  them.  It  is  at  infrequent  intervals  that 
he  fully  discusses  them,  although  he  often  makes  a  side  thrust ;  for 
he  doubtless  esteems  the  reverence  for  old  theological  systems  as  a 
prominent  error  of  the  Church  of  To-day.  Yet  it  is  not  that  he 
objects  to  systems  (but  only  to  what  he  esteems  wrong  systems),  as 
must  be  manifest  from  the  illustrations  we  have  given  of  his  own 
thoroughly  systematized  views ;  nor  that  he  objects  to  Theologies, 
if  only  they  keep  what  he  esteems  their  proper  place,  the  Study 
and  Seminary ;  and  do  not  invade  the  pulpit. 

To  conclude  this  division,  we  present  one  article  of  Mr.  Beecher's, 
which  has  already  appeared  in  print,  in  reply  to  an  article  in  "  The 
Puritan  Recorder,"  entitled,  "  Preaching  to  the  Times." 

"  The  pulpit  seeks  the  education  of  man's  moral  nature  by  the 
power  of  Divine  truth.  The  pulpit  begins  where  all  other  lecture- 
ships end.  It  aims  at  the  conversion  of  the  soul  from  worldliness 
and  selfishness  to  a  spiritual  and  truly  godly  state.  This  result  is 
to  be  sought  chiefly  by  the  power  of  the  thoughts  and  the  facts 
which  God  has  revealed  concerning  himself,  and  then  by  the  power 
of  the  truths  in  like  manner  revealed  concerning  man's  nature  and 

12 


178  HENRY   WARD   BEECHER. 

character,  his  immortality  and  destiny.  There  is  an  intrinsic  fitness 
in  these  highest  possible  truths  of  the  Dinne  Being  and  Govern- 
ment to  work  upon  the  soul,  and  develop  its  spiritual  nature.  And 
when,  by  God's  Holy  Spirit,  the  heart  is  aroused  and  excited  to  that 
degree  which  makes  it  susceptible  of  feeHng  and  understanding  such 
spiritual  truths,  and  it  yields  itself  to  be  imbued  by  them,  and  con- 
trolled by  them,  it  has  been  bom  again.  It  has  become  the  new 
child  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Word. 

"  Now  all  preaching  is  to  be  judged  by  its  relation  to  this  end 
That  discourse  which  discloses  to  the  human  soul  the  real  character 
of  God,  and  the  essential  relations  which  He  sustains  to  men,  so  that 
the  thoughts  do  not  rest  upon  the  vehicle,  but  upon  the  thing  itself — 
the  very  truth — is  preaching. 

"  That  discourse  which  leaves  the  thoughts  upon  the  sermon  itself, 
not  upon  the  truth  which  it  seeks  to  convey,  is  a  secular  lecture,  no 
matter  whether  it  be  on  the  subject  of  the  Trinity,  of  Sovereignty, 
of  Heaven,  or  any  other  sacred  theme.  An  elaborate  sermon,  stuffed 
full  of  scholastic  learning,  tied  and  bound  by  nice  qualifications  and 
balancings,  or  split  up  and  fringed  with  subtle  definitions  and  fine 
distinctions,  whether  it  be  upon  the  Decrees,  upon  Human  Agency 
and  Responsibility,  or  upon  any  other  solemn  topic,  is  a  mere  phil- 
osophical lecture,  unfit  for  the  pulpit  or  the  Sabbath. 

"  A  sermon  that  is  dry,  cold,  dull,  soporific,  is  a  pulpit  monster,  and 
is  just  as  great  a  violation  of  the  sanctity  of  the  pulpit,  as  the  other 
absurd  extreme  of  profane  lenty.  Men  may  hide  or  forsake  God's 
living  truth  by  the  way  of  stupid  dulness,  just  as  much  as  by  pert 
imagination.  A  solemn  nothing  is  just  as  wicked  as  a  witty  nothing. 
Men  confound  earnestness  with  solemnity.  A  man  may  be  eagerly 
earnest,  and  not  be  very  solemn.  They  may  also  be  awfully  solemn, 
without  a  particle  of  earnestness.  But  solemnity  has  a  reputation. 
A  man  may  be  a  repeater  of  endless  distinctions,  a  lecturer  in  the 
pul{)it  of  mere  philosophical  niceties,  or  he  may  be  a  repeater  of 
stale  truisms ;  ho  may  smother  living  truths  by  conventional  forms 
and  phrases,  and  if  he  put  on  a  very  solemn  face,  use  a  very  solemn 
tone,  employ  very  solemn  gestures,  and  roll  along  his  vamped-up 
sermon  witli  professional  solemnity  above  an  audience  of  sound  men  ; 


"preaching  to  the  times."  179 

men,  at  least,  soundly  asleep, — that  will  pass  for  decorous  handling 
of  God's  truth.  The  old  pharisaism  is  not  dead  yet.  The  difference 
between  Christ  and  His  contemporary  teachers  was,  that  He  spake 
life-truth  in  life-forms,  with  the  power  of  His  own  life  in  their  ut- 
terance. The  rabbis  spake  old  orthodoxy,  dead  as  a  mummy,  but 
they  spake  it  very  reverendly.  They  might  not  do  any  good,  but 
they  never  violated  professional  propriety.  Nobody  lived,  everybody 
died  about  them.  But,  then,  their  faces  were  sober,  their  robes 
exact,  their  manner  mostly  of  the  Temple  and  the  Altar.  They 
never  forgot  how  to  look,  nor  how  to  speak  guttural  solemnities, 
nor  how  to  maintain  professional  dignity.  They  forgot  nothing  ex- 
cept hving  truths  and  living  souls.  And  fifty  years  of  ministration 
without  any  fruit  in  true  godliness,  gave  them  no  pain.  It  was 
charged  to  the  account  of  Divine  Sovereignty. 

"  Whoever  hides  the  truth  by  embellishment  of  words ;  by  a  vain 
exhibition  of  wit  or  fancy  ;  by  opaque  learning ;  by  the  impenetrable 
thickets  of  nice  distinctions ;  by  stupidity  and  lifelessness ;  by  inane 
solemnity  and  sanctimonious  conventionalism,  is  a  desecrator  of  the 
pulpit  and  a  breaker  of  the  Sabbath-day.  Stupidity  hides  the  truth 
just  as  fatally  as  levity.  Consecrated  dulness  is  no  better  than  flip- 
pant folly.  If  a  window  fails  to  let  the  light  through,  it  makes  little 
difference  whether  the  obscuration  comes  from  the  web  of  a  big,  lazy 
spider,  or  from  the  nimble  weavings  of  a  hundred  pert  little  spiders. 

"  God's  truth  really,  earnestly,  pungently  spoken,  for  a  direct  and 
practical  purpose,  with  distinct  results  constantly  following,  that  is 
preaching,  no  matter  what  are  the  particular  methods  of  speech. 
Doubtless  some  are  better  than  others.  But  every  sincere  and  truth- 
ful man  must  use  that  way  by  which  God  has  enabled  him  to  achieve 
success ;  some  by  sohd  statements,  some  by  inexorable  reasonings, 
some  by  illustration  and  fancy,  some  by  facts  and  stories — ^just  as 
God  has  given  power  to  each  one.  But  the  test  is  the  same  in  the 
highest  and  the  lowest.  Fruit  must  follow.  The  truth  of  God 
must  shine  through  the  human  instrument  and  evince  its  divinity 
by  signs  following — the  awakening  of  the  conscience,  con^^ction  of 
sin,  conversion  to  God,  and  a  life  redeemed  from  selfishness  and  set 
a-glow  with  Christian  goodness  and  benevolence. 


180  HKNKY    WARB   BEECIIER. 

"  NotliiDg  can  more  sharply  exhibit  the  miserable  imbecihty  which 
has  come  upon  us,  than  the  inability  of  men  to  perceive  the  dififer- 
ence  between  preaching  '  politics,'  '  social  reform,'  &c.,  and  preach- 
ing God's  truth  in  such  a  way  that  it  shall  sit  in  judg-ment  upon 
these  things,  and  every  other  deed  of  men,  to  try  them,  to  explore 
and  analyze  them,  and  to  set  them  forth,  as  upon  the  background 
of  eternity,  in  their  moral  character,  and  in  their  relation  to  man's 
duty  and  God's  requirements. 

"  Shall  the  whole  army  of  human  deeds  go  roaring  along  the  public 
thoroughfares,  and  Christian  men  be  whelmed  in  the  general  rush, 
and  no  man  be  found  to  speak  the  real  moral  nature  of  human  con- 
duct ?  Is  the  pulpit  too  holy,  and  the  Sabbath  too  sacred,  to  bring 
individual  courses  and  developments  of  society  to  the  bar  of  God's 
Word  for  trial  ?  Those  who  think  so,  and  are  crying  out  about  the 
desecration  of  the  pulpit  with  secular  themes,  are  the  lineal  descend- 
ants of  those  Jews  who  thought  the  Sabbath  so  sacred  that  our 
Saviour  desecrated  it  by  healing  the  withered  hand.  Would  to 
God  that  the  Saviour  would  visit  His  Church  and  heal  withered 
hearts !" 

It  has  been  our  purpose  to  show  why  it  is  that  in  the  case  of  Mr. 
Beecher  "  all  the  peoj^le  are  very  attentive  to  hear  him."  There  is 
no  doubt  that  the  remarkable  range  of  his  faculties  attracts  a  corre- 
sponding variety  of  people.  Some  see  the  peculiar  charm  in  his 
poetry,  some  in  his  pathos,  some  in  his  word-painting,  some  in  his 
dissections  of  character,  some  in  his  illustrations  from  nature,  some 
in  his  sharp  sayings,  some  in  his  disrespect  for  forms  and  theological 
systems,  some  in  his  heroism,  some  in  his  views  of  God  and  Christ, 
and  some  in  his  delivery;  but  all,  all  w^ho  like  Mr.  Beecher,  are 
drawn  to  him  by  the  universal  recognition  of  his  humanity  and  his 
honesty.  lie  loves  his  fellow-man,  and  he  preaches  himself.  As 
Emerson  truly  says,  "  He  that  writes  to  himself  writes  to  an  eternal 
public.  We  see  it  advertised  that  Mr.  Grand  will  deliver  an  oration 
on  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  Mr.  Hand  before  the  Mechanics'  Associa- 
tion, and  we  do  not  go  thither,  because  we  know  that  these  gentle- 
men will  not  communicate  their  own  character  and  experience  to 


181 

the  company.  If  we  had  reason  to  expect  such  a  confidence,  we 
should  go  through  all  inconvenience  and  opposition.  The  sick 
would  be  carried  on  litters.  But  a  pubhc  oration  is  an  escapade,  a 
non-committal,  an  apology,  a  gag,  and  not  a  communication,  not  a 
speech,  not  a  man."  But  Mr.  Beecher  does  confide  his  own  charac- 
ter and  experience,  and  this  confidence  is  the  confidence  of  love.  It 
is  this  which  gives  the  peculiar  charm  of  encouragement  to  his 
preaching.  One  hears  him,  and  grows  stronger  and  happier.  It  is 
good  for  all  of  us  to  have  life  intei-preted.  It  is  good  to  have  heart- 
experiences,  however  deep,  sounded  with  as  profound  appreciation. 
The  poor  come  discouraged,  and  go  away  invigorated ;  the  tempted 
come  reckless,  and  go  away  penitent ;  the  bereaved  come  weeping, 
and  go  away  hoping ;  the  darkened  are  illuminated ;  and  the  stranded 
float  off  into  abundant  waters.  It  is  the  truth  which  he  preaches, 
the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  Most  ministers  preach  the  truth,  but 
with  some  is  it  not  truth  once  full  of  juice  and  fresh  with  beauty, 
but  now  sere  in  its  fulfilled  mission,  and  only  held  trembling  to  the 
bud  of  a  new  growth,  by  the  dried  adhesion  of  last  year's  sap  ? 
With  others  is  it  not  desert  truth  of  drifting  sands,  with  only  here 
and  there  an  oasis  ?  or  is  it  not  unproductive  truth,  like  lands 
exjiausted  by  unrighteous  cultivation  ?  Does  it  meet  the  \dtal 
necessities  of  the  living,  acting  men  and  women  of  this  living, 
present  nineteenth  century?  Is  it  truth  which  Paul  would  have 
preached  if  born  eighteen  hundred  years  later  ?  It  is  living  truth, 
which,  we  confidently  beheve,  men  yearn  for ;  some  only  fitfully, 
some  unceasingly.  There  are  but  few,  stupidly  quiescent  in  past 
attainment.  Some  grope  after  it,  with  blind  outstretchings,  amidst 
tame  revelations  and  fantastic  table-movings ;  some  among  the 
writings  of  the  Fathers  and  the  rubbish  of  the  past ;  some  seek  it  by 
self-imposed  penances  or  tedious  mummeries ;  some,  skeptically 
trampling  on  all  the  past,  search  for  it  in  nature,  from  "  star  dust," 
and  primary  cells ;  some  think  it  embraced  in  telegraphs  and  steam, 
or  whatever  promotes  the  Physical  and  accumulates  wealth ;  but  all 
the  world  ask  Pilate's  old  question,  "What  is  truth?"  ignorant  that 
He  stands  ever  before  them  who  is  "  the  way,  the  truth^  and  the  life.'* 
That  preacher  collects  the  people,  who  preaches  the  truth  of  to-day 


1S2  HENKY    WAKD    BEECHER. 

applied  to  the  wants  of  to-day,  to  the  temptations  of  to-day,  to  the 
errors  of  to-day,  and  to  the  individual  necessities  and  environments 
and  duties  of  those  who,  at  this  present,  are  working  out  the 
Problem  of  Life ;  and  who  preaches  it  simply  and  naturally,  not 
swathed  in  formulas,  not  inwoven  with  technicalities,  but  presented 
in  the  garb  of  every-day  life,  illustrated  by  familiar  experiences, 
unstilted  and  unassuming,  so  that  our  eyes  see  it  and  our  hands 
handle  it.  That  Mr.  Beecher's  attraction  consists  much  in  discern- 
ment, in  mental  elasticity,  soul-strength,  acute  observation,  apt  illus- 
tration, and  power  of  diction,  we  do  not  propose  to  deny ;  but  it  is 
because  he  uses  these  gifts  in  presenting  simple  Christian  truth  that 
he  holds  his  unequalled  sway  and  is  the  People's  Preacher.* 


SELECTIONS. 


We  append  some  sentences  reported  from  Mr.  Beecher's  Extem- 
pore. No  one  can  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  genius  which  can 
profusely  scatter,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  such  felicitous  expressions. 

From  a  Peayeb. 
Our  Father !  all  other  relationships  are  swallowed  up  in  Thee.    Thou 
art  all  that  are  distributed,  and  more.     Thou  art  the  exhaustless  foun- 
tain of  love. 

Our  Father !  Thou  knowest  that  through  the  week  we  go  down  into 
the  valleys  of  care  and  shadow.  Grant  that  our  Sabbaths  may  be 
hills  of  light  and  joy  in  Thy  presence ;  and  so,  as  Time  rolls  by,  may  we 
go  on  from  mountain-top  to  mountain-top,  till  at  last  we  catch  the 
glory  of  the  gate,  and  enter  in,  to  go  no  more  out  forever. 

Wliat  cares  the  child,  when  the  mother  rocks  it,  though  all  storms 
beat  without  ?  So  we,  if  Thou  dost  shield  and  tend  us,  shall  be  mind- 
less of  the  tempests  and  blasts  of  life,  blow  they  never  so  rudely. 


♦  In  tlic  preceding  presentation  of  Mr.  Beecher's  various  views,  it  should  be 
understood,  in  justice  to  him,  that  all  quotations  of  his  language  are  specilicd 
Ijy  quotation  marks,  or  by  foot-notes  pointing  out  Abstracts  of  Sermons,  in 
which  the  wording  is  Mr.  Beecher's,  to  the  extent  which  an  Abstract  will  allow. 


SELECTIONS.  183 


Feom  a  Seemon. 


God  pardons  like  a  mother,  who  kisses  the  offence  into  everlasting 
forgetfulness. 

In  our  own  strength  we  can  do  nothing.  "Who  is  there  that  is  not 
tu*ed  of  climbing  up  the  black  face  of  the  cliff  of  Resolution,  to  fall 
back  again,  day  after  day,  upon  the  shore  ? 

There  are  multitudes  of  men  like  the  summer  vines,  that  never  grow 
even  ligneous,  but  stretch  out  a  thousand  Uttle  hands  to  grasp  the 
stronger  shrubs ;  and  if  they  cannot  reach  them,  lie  there  dishevelled  in 
the  grass,  hoof-trodden  and  beaten  of  every  storm. 

Humor  is  a  golden  bounty  of  atmosphere  in  us,  which  we  are 
not  to  use  for  our  own  warming,  but  for  the  wide  cheer  and  up- 
lifting of  all. 

A  helping  word  to  one  in  trouble  is  often  like  a  switch  on  a  rail- 
road track — but  one  inch  between  wreck  and  ruin,  and  smooth,  on- 
rolling  prosperity. 

Do  the  best  you  can  where  you  are,  and  when  that  is  exhausted, 
God  will  open  a  door  for  you,  and  a  voice  will  call,  "  Come  up  hither 
into  a  higher  sphere." 

When  Christ  went  away,  it  was  to  larger  capabiHties  and  loves  for 
ns,  even  as  a  bud  bursts  its  cerements  and  expands  into  the  full  blos- 
som of  beauty  and  perfume. 

As  a  rose  after  a  shower,  bent  down  by  tear-drops,  waits  for  a 
passing  breeze  or  a  kindly  hand  to  shake  its  branches,  that,  lightened, 
it  may  stand  once  more  upon  its  stem,  so  one  who  is  bowed  down  with 
aflaiction  longs  for  a  friend  to  lift  him  out  of  his  sorrow,  and  bid  him 
once  more  rejoice.  Happy  is  the  man  who  has  that  in  his  soul  which 
acts  upon  the  dejected  like  April  airs  upon  violet  roots. 

God  does  not  send  graces  as  he  sends  light  and  rain.  They  are 
wrought  in  us  through  long  days  of  discipline  and  growth. 

When  God  means  to  make  a  man  strong  and  useful  in  his  day  and 
generation,  He  generally  puts  him  into  the  forge  and  on  to  the  anvil. 


184:  nEXRY    WARD    BEECHEK. 


Feom  a  Peatee. 

There  is  no  soil  on  earth  deep  enough  for  the  heart's  root-s — there  is 
no  earthly  air  in  which  it  can  blossom  -with  all  its  heavenly  fragrance. 

To  be  weighed  down  with  a  sense  of  our  own  incompleteness — to 
long  for  that  which  we  have  not,  and  cannot  gain — this  it  is  to  be  on 
earth.  Do  Thou  grant  that  these  very  yearnings  may  be  winds  which 
shall  fill  the  sails  that  waft  us  homeward  to  Thee. 

We  are  glad  that  there  is  a  bosom  of  God  to  which  we  can  go  and 
find  refuge.  As  prisoners  in  castles  look  out  of  their  grated  windows 
at  the  smihng  landscape,  where  the  sun  comes  and  goes,  so  we  from 
this  life,  as  from  dungeon  bars,  look  forth  to  the  Heavenly  land,  and 
are  refreshed  with  sweet  visions  of  the  home  that  shall  be  ours  when 
we  are  free. 

Feom  a  Seemon. 

No  man  can  go  down  into  the  dungeon  of  his  own  experience,  and 
hold  the  torch  of  God's  word  to  all  its  dark  chambers,  and  hidden  cavi- 
ties, and  slimy  recesses,  and  not  come  up  with  a  shudder  and  a  chill, 
and  an  earnest  cry  to  God  for  divine  mercy  and  cleansing. 

The  man  who  carries  a  lantern  in  a  dark  night,  can  have  friends  all 
around  him  walking  safely  by  the  help  of  its  rays,  and  he  be  not  de- 
frauded. So  he  who  has  the  God-given  light  of  Hope  in  his  breast, 
can  help  on  many  others  in  this  world's  darkness,  not  to  his  own  loss, 
but  to  his  precious  gain. 

Would  that  I  could  break  this  Gospel  as  a  bread  of  life  to  all  of  you ! 
My  best  presentations  of  it  to  you  are  so  incomplete !  Sometimes,  when 
I  am  alone,  I  have  such  sweet  and  rapturous  visions  of  the  love  of 
God  and  the  truths  of  His  word,  that  I  think  if  I  could  speak  to  you 
then,  I  should  move  your  hearts.  I  am  like  a  child,  who,  walking 
fbrth  some  sunny  summer's  morning,  sees  grass  and  flowers  all  shining 
with  drops  of  dew,  that  reflect  every  hue  of  the  rainbow.  "Oh!"  he 
cries,  "  I'll  carry  these  beautiful  things  to  my  mother,"  and  eagerly 
shakos  them  off  into  his  httle  palm.  But  the  charm  is  gone — they 
are  no  more  water-pearls. 


SELECTIONS.  185 


Feom  a  Seemon. 
The  change  from  a  burning  desert,  treeless,  springless,  and  drear,  to 
green  fields  and  blooming  orchards  in  June,  is  slight  in  comparison 
with  that  from  the  desert  of  this  world's  affection  to  the  garden  of 
God,  where  there  is  perpetual,  tropical  luxuriance  of  blessed  Love. 

A  man's  conscience  should  go  ever  with  him  hke  an  atmosphere  of 
life.  Many  men  carry  their  consciences  like  a  drawn  sword,  cutting 
this  way  and  that  in  the  world,  but  sheathe  it  and  keep  it  very  soft 
and  quiet  when  it  is  turned  within. 

The  golden  light  of  conscience  should  shine  in  every  chamber  of 
the  soul. 

Go  to  God  whenever  you  have  done  wrong.  God  never  says,  with 
a  scowl,  "  Here  comes  that  limping  sinner  again."  The  path  of  the 
sinner  back  to  God  is  brighter  and  brighter  every  step  he  takes,  up  to 
the  smile  of  the  face  and  the  touch  of  the  hand,  and  that — is  salvation. 

The  life  of  Christ  should  be  before  us  as  an  example,  and  in  us 
as  a  fruit. 

Feom  Eemaeks. 

You  never  can  have  congregational  singing,  if  that  is  all  you  have. 
Unless  you  have  singing  in  the  famUy — singing  in  the  house,  and  sing- 
ing in  the  shop,  and  singing  in  the  street — singing  everywhere,  until  it 
becomes  a  habit,  you  never  can  have  congregational  singing.  It  will 
be  like  the  cold  drops,  half  water,  half  ice,  which  drip  in  March  from 
some  cleft  of  a  rock,  one  drop  here,  and  one  drop  there ;  whereas  it 
should  be  like  the  August  shower,  which  comes,  ten  million  di'ops 
at  once,  and  roars  upon  the  roof. 


Feom  a  Peatee. 

And  when  we  come  to  that  golden  gate  which  men  have  made  black, 
but  which  Thou  hast  set  with  all  glowing  stones  which  are  precious  in 
heaven ;  do  Thou,  who  art  our  salvation,  stretch  forth  Thine  hands  to 
receive  us,  and  lead  us  up  the  unknown  way  to  the  land  where  we  shaU 
dwell  evermore  with  Thee. 


186  HENRY    WAKD   BEECHER. 

O  Lord!  be  thou  -with  U3  when  we  go  over  into  the  promised 
land  of  our  own  hearts.  Thou  knowest  that  the  enemy  are  encamped 
there,  and  that  it  is  through  much  tribulation  that  we  can  vanquish 
them  and  take  possession. 

Grant  that  we  may  learn,  in  whatever  station  we  are,  therewith  to 
be  content.  Not  that  we  may  not  have  aspirations,  but  that  we  may 
be  content  to  brood  upon  our  nests,  until  the  time  for  flying  shall 
oome. 

Feom  a  Sermon. 

Slavery  is  a  state  of  suppressed  war. 

The  test  of  a  good  institution  is,  that  it  digs  its  own  grave. 

To  see  the  meanest  creature  abused,  who  is  made  in  the  image  of 
God,  makes  my  heart  volcanic. 

The  sun  does  not  shine  for  a  few  trees  and  flowers,  but  for  the  wide 
world's  joy.  The  lonely  pme  upon  the  mountain-top  waves  its  sombre 
boughs  and  cries,  "  Thou  art  my  sun."  And  the  little  meadow  violet 
lifts  its  cup  of  blue,  and  whispers  with  its  perfumed  breath,  "  Thou  art 
my  sun."  And  the  grain  in  a  thousand  fields  rustles  in  the  wind,  and 
makes  answer,  "  Thou  art  my  sun."  And  so  God  sits  efi'ulgent  in 
heaven,  not  for  a  favored  few,  but  for  the  universe  of  life ;  and  there  is 
no  creature  so  poor  or  so  low  that  he  may  not  look  up  with  child-like 
confidence  and  say,  "  My  Father !  Thou  art  mine." 

The  firm  skull  must  conform  to  the  growth  of  the  brain,  the  softest 
mass  in  the  whole  body.  So  laws  and  institutions,  however  hard  they 
may  seem,  must  yield  and  fashion  themselves  according  to  the  expansion 
and  growth  of  the  national  character. 


Feom  a  Seemon  ox  Col.  iii.  24. 

The  Bible  rarely  pronounces  either  for  or  against  such  relations  (as 
in  the  previous  verses).  It  gives  us  the  principles  on  which  we  should 
act  in  them.  It  simply  instructs  us  what  our  spirit  should  be  as  long 
as  we  are  in  them. 

The  real  and  ovcrLostiDg  sources  of  motives  are  from  God  himself. 


SELECTIONS.  187 

He  that  only  acts  from  the  apparent  reasons  of  rectitude,  acts  from 
very  slender  ones. 

Because  one  man  throws  an  ugly  shadow  across  your  path,  you  have 
no  right  to  distort  yourself,  and  throw  one  across  his. 

When  Christianity  is  fruitful  of  speculation  and  barren  of  good  con- 
duct, infidels  always  abound. 

We  must  carry  such  a  fervor  into  our  afiairs,  that  our  souls  shall 
make  all  things  beautiftil. 

God  tells  us  to  do  our  duties  for  His  sake.  The  duties  are  not  much, 
but  the  "  For  my  sake,"  makes  them  great  as  mountains. 

The  worse  the  place,  if  a  man  meets  it  with  Christian  heroism,  the 
more  glorious  is  it. 

The  strokes  of  duty  ring  in  heaven. 

What  you  lack  in  outward  ckcumstance,  make  up  in  inward  excel- 
lence, and  thus  equalize  it. 

Though  the  Bible  teaches  what  Christian  graces  are,  it  is  the  world 
which  produces  them.  A  book  of  tactics  is  good  to  teach  the  soldier 
evolutions,  but  it  is  the  parade-ground  and  the  battle-field  which  makes 
veterans. 

God  does  not  put  us  to  school  here  to  ministers,  nor  to  the  Bible,  but 
life  itself  is  God's  teacher.  You  will  go  to  your  stores  and  your  busi- 
ness to-morrow,  and  some  event,  some  experience,  will  preach  to  you 
of  some  Christian  grace.  You  may  not  understand  it,  but  it  is  the 
voice  of  God  speaking  to  you,  and  if  you  do  not  understand  it,  I  am 
sorry  for  you. 

A  grindstone  that  had  no  grit  in  it,  how  long  would  it  take  it  to 
make  an  axe  sharp  ?  And  affairs  that  had  no  pinch  in  them,  how  long 
would  they  take  to  make  a  man  ? 

How  can  men  have  faith,  unless  they  are  compelled  to  go  where  they 

cannot  see  ? 

When  God  makes  saints.  He  makes  them  out  of  something  else  than 
sentimental  aspirations. 


188  HENKY   WAED   BEECHER. 

The  saints  who  cOre  most  eminent  in  this  life,  I  think  are  saints  whc 
are  not  heard  from. 

There  are  many  persons  who  are  martyrs  that  never  were  burnt  at 
the  stake. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  cactus  growing?  What  a  dry,  ugly,  spiny 
thing  it  is !  But  suppose  yom*  gardener  takes  it  when  just  sprouting 
forth  with  buds,  and  lets  it  stand  a  week  or  two,  and  then  brings  it  to 
you,  and  lo !  it  is  a  blaze  of  light,  glorious  above  all  flowers.  So  the 
poor  and  lowly,  when  God's  time  comes,  and  they  begin  to  stand  up  and 
blossom,  how  beautiful  they  will  be ! 

Daily  duties  ai*e  a  part  of  a  man's  religious  Hfe,  as  much  as  his  de- 
votions are. 

The  world  was  made  such  as  it  is,  that  you  might  be  made  what  you 
ought  to  ba 

Oh !  how  sacred  is  life  when  every  act  is  an  altar  from  which  the 
heart  sends  up  its  incense  unto  God. 

May  every  thing  which  calls  you  to  do  and  to  bear,  though  it  is  called 
by  the  ugly  name  of  trial,  so  stand,  that,  by  your  faith  touching  it,  you 
shall  see  Christ  standing  there,  and  saying,  "  Do  it  for  my  sake — Bear  it 
for  my  sake." 

Feom  a  Sermon  on  Mat.  xiii.  18-23. 
There  is  nothing  which  excites  more  interest  among  men,  than  to  find 
general  truths  made  to  meet  the  scope  of  a  particular  case. 

There  is  not  a  single  fundamental  reli^ous  controversy  up  now-a- 
days.     They  are  aU  controversies  of  details — of  jointings. 

The  great  denominations  now  stand  apart  from  each  other  on  grounds 
which,  by  their  own  general  confession,  do  not  touch  the  individual 
Christian  character. 

God  works  by  the  Church  just  as  far  as  He  can.  But  the  stream  of 
His  workings  overflows,  and  runs  m  a  hundred  ducts  besides. 

This  great  truth  of  the  importance  of  man,  which  G^d  is  driving 
through  our  time  as  with  a  chariot  of  fire — when  this  truth  comes 
up  to  the  Church,  does  the  Church  welcome  it  ?    No.    The  Church  is 


SELECTIONS.  189 

busy  dusting  the  flitches  of  old  truth,  that  have  hung  for  years  in  the 
smoke-house  of  theology. 

"We  are  standing  on  the  eve  of  a  great  day— a  day  multitudinous  with 
truths  and  struggles.        , 

Doubt  is  as  bad  as  unbelief;  for  a  fog  is  as  bad  as  midnight  darkness. 

The  way  to  cure  infideUty  in  another  is  to  be  a  Christian  one's  self. 


Feom  a  Seemox  on  Mat.  xiii.  23. 

InfideHty  is  to  religion  just  what  all  the  diseases  of  famine  are  to 
health.  And  real  religion  cures  infidelity  without  arguments,  just  as 
food  cures  famine — weakness  without  medicine. 

It  is  said  that  it  makes  no  difference  what  a  man  believes,  if  he  is  only 
sincere.  But  it  does  make  a  great  difference.  If  a  man  mounts  a  wild 
steed,  and  makes  full  speed  for  a  precipice,  and  means  to  slip  oft"  before 
he  gets  to  it,  his  very  insincerity  will  save  him.  But  if  he  says,  "  I  don't 
believe  there  is  any  chasm  there,"  his  sincerity  will  bring  him  to  the 
bottom. 

There  is  no  presumptive  evil  in  holding  truths  in  a  distinct  form  of 
ideas,  or  in  systematizing  them.  I  suspect  that  every  man  who  thinks 
at  all,  arranges  his  conclusions ;  and  when  a  man  has  settled  what  his 
beliefs  are,  he  has  a  creed.  It  is  not  systematizing  truth  that  makes  the 
mischief;  it  is  false  systematizing. 

The  ground  to  be  taken  in  respect  to  truth  is,  that  it  does  make  all  the 
difference  between  life  and  death,  between  destruction  and  salvation, 
what  a  man  believes. 

I  might  almost  say  that  the  power  of  truth  to  change  the  life,  is  an 
unfailing  criterion  of  it ;  and  that  those  things  which  smooth  and  soften, 
carry  in  their  very  imbecility  the  proof  of  their  falsity ;  and  those  truths 
which,  though  they  are  rugged,  yet  have  grip  in  them,  have  in  them- 
selves presumptive  evidence  of  their  truth. 

God  is  served  not  by  single  denominations,  but  by  all  Christians  of 
all  ages. 

You  are  not  to  have  any  toleration  which  is  founded  on  indifference. 
That  truth  I  would  build  as  high  as  heaven.  • 


190  HEXKY   TN'AKD    BEECIIEE. 

ATheu  a  man  gives  proof  that  his  heart  is  sound,  that  his  life  is  sonnd, 
then  no  divergence  of  opinion  should  keep  us  from  fellowship  with  him. 

I,  too,  feel  sensitive  in  behalf  of  theologies ;  but  when  theology  puts 
its  hoof  upon  the  living,  palpitating  heart,  my  heart  cries  out  against  it. 

The  most  powerful  way  of  teaching  the  truth,  is  to  show  to  men  what 
it  does  in  you. 


From  a  Peatee. 

We  thank  Thee  for  all  those  budding  promises  which  are  yet  to  burst 
,  into  flower. 

How  long  shall  those  blessed  promises  stand  as  sentinels  upon  the  bor- 
ders, and  not  march  as  armies  of  the  living  Grod  ? 

TTe  grieve  that  our  days  are  so  inharmonious.  Our  hearts  are  con- 
tinually going  in  and  out  of  echpses.  Yesterday  jostles  to-day,  and  to- 
morrow will  carry  them  both  away  captive. 

And  as  when,  in  summer,  we  go  forth  in  the  pastures,  and  there  is 
nothing  that  we  may  not  pluck  of  flowers,  or  of  fruit,  or  of  beauty ;  so, 
in  all  the  richness  of  Thy  royal  nature,  there  is  nothing  that  we  may  not 
tate :  all  is  ours,  and  we  are  God's. 

We  rejoice  to  think  that,  being  heirs  of  God,  we  can  afibrd  to  walk 
without  this  world's  outward  estate. 

■  Since  the  Forgiver  hath  come  revealed,  may  we  not  be  unwilling  to 
know  our  sin. 

Bless  all  those  whom  we  love.  Gather  them  into  the  charmed  circle 
of  Thine  own  heart,  and  love  them  into  joy  and  purity. 


From  an  Evening  Lectuee,  on  Mat.  v.  10-12. 
Such  a  string  of  pearls,  I  think,  were  never  put  around  the  neck  of 
any  favorite,  as  Christ  put  around  the  neck  of  His  disciples,  when  He 
pronounced  the  Beatitudes. 

Men  like  to  sun  themselves  in  the  faces  of  their  fellow-men ;  and  the 
best  of  purposes  are  sometimes  thawed  out  by  the  mere  sight. 


SELECTIONS.  191 

We  are  not  born  merely  for  the  purpose  of  success.  "We  have  a  much 
nobler  end  than  merely  to  scramble  up  a  certain  height  on  the  golden 
hill. 

The  Bible  nowhere,  I  think,  provides  for  the  want  of  common  sense. 
That  is  taken  for  granted. 

Because  our  impressions  are  right,  we  have  not  the  right  to  flash 
them,  unpreparedly  and  unadvisedly,  in  the  faces  of  men. 

The  command  to  "  live  peaceably  with  all  men,"  is  not  a  command 
to  the  fist  only :  It  is  a  command  to  the  head — to  the  heart — to  the 
knuckles  of  the  understanding. 

"We  are  never  to  propel  our  good  purpose  by  a  malign  impulsion. 

There  are  those  who  think  that  it  is  the  part  of  truth  to  make  men 
angry ;  and  the  more  men  get  angry  and  the  more  they  hiss,  the  more 
such  a  man  thinks  he  is  doing  his  work  thoroughly,  and  he  rather  re- 
joices in  it. 

A  man  who  is  in  the  right,  knows  that  he  is  in  the  majority ;  for 
God  is  on  his  side,  and  God  is  multitudinous  above  all  populations  of 
the  earth. 

The  wife  who,  with  broken  health,  and  untoward  circumstances,  and 
overwhelming  cares,  still  struggles  on — she  is  imperfect — take  the 
measure  of  a  symmetrical  character,  and  there  is  not  a  word  to  be  said. 
But  she  tries  to  do  right,  "  faint,  yet  pursuing,"  and  says,  "  I  shall  not 
go  back — I  will  persevere,  and  that  to  the  end."  Now  all  her  strug- 
gles are  because  she  will  not  turn  and  go  down  stream.  All  those 
troubles  that  beat  upon  the  bows  of  her  boat  as  she  stems  the  tide 
are  blessings  fi-om  God,  if  she  only  knew  it,  as  they  murmur  against 
the  bows. 

To  have  one  spark  of  courage  in  the  face  of  a  million  dangers,  is  to 
have  more  than  to  have  all  courage  where  there  is  no  danger.  And  so 
those  who  are  put  under  troubles  and  have  a  patient  spirit,  do  they 
not  try  harder  to  do  right  than  they  ever  did  before  ?  And  though 
they  often  fail,  yet  can  they  say,  "  Is  not  my  soul  armed  for  the  right, 
although  I  am  borne  back  by  the  spears  of  mine  adversaries  V 

Sometimes  a  man  is  brought  to  a  place  where  on  the  one  side  is  right, 
and  apparent  ruin,  and  on  the  other  prosperity  with  wrong-doing.    A 


192  HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

man  should  pray  that  he  may  be  delivered  from  the  fork  of  the  road 
where  such  temptations  are. 

Half  our  troubles  come  from  our  morbid  way  of  looking  at  our  privi- 
leges. We  let  our  blessings  lie  till  they  get  mouldy,  and  then  we  call 
themf  curses. 

Keligion  should  be  to  the  life  like  rain,  which  descends  in  a  miUion 
little  drops,  and  is  not  ashamed  to  sink  into  the  ground,  where  the 
roots  are.  The  way  that  the  drop  of  water  comes  to  swing  in  the  leaf, 
as  it  flaunts  in  the  sun  and  wind  all  summer  long,  is  by  going  down 
into  the  ground. 

There  are  days  when  my  blood  flows  like  wine ;  when  all  is  ease  and 
prosperity ;  when  the  sky  is  blue,  and  the  birds  sing,  and  flowers  blos- 
som, and  every  thing  speaks  to  me ;  and  my  life  is  an  anthem,  walking  in 
time  and  tune ;  and  then  this  world's  joy  and  affection  suffice.  But 
when  a  change  comes — when  I  am  weary  and  disappointed — when  the 
skies  lower  into  the  sombre  night — when  there  is  no  song  of  bird,  and 
the  perfume  of  flowers  is  but  their  dying  breath  breathed  away — when 
all  is  sunsetting  and  autumn,  then  I  yearn  for  Him  who  sits  with  the 
summer  of  love  in  His  soul,  and  know  that  all  earthly  affection  is  but  a 
glow-worm  light  compared  to  that  which  blazes  with  such  effulgence  in 
the  heart  of  God. 

Eehgion— it  is  the  bread  of  life.  I  wish  that  we  appreciated  more 
livmgly  the  force  of  such  expressions.  "Why !  I  remember,  when  I  was 
a  boy,  I  could  not  wait  till  I  was  dressed  in  the  morning,  but  ran  and 
cut  a  slice  from  the  loaf,  and  all  round  the  loaf,  too,  in  order  to  keep 
Tiie  till  breakfast — and  at  breakfast — if  diligence  earned  wages,  I  should 
have  been  well  paid — and  then  I  could  not  wait  till  dinner,  but  had  to 
eat  again,  and  again  before  tea,  and  then  at  tea,  and  lucky  if  I  did  not 
eat  again  after  that.  It  was  bread,  bread,  all  the  time,  which  I  ate, 
and  lived  on,  and  got  strength  from.  And  so  religion  is  the  bread  of 
life.  You  make  it  the  cake.  You  put  it  away  in  your  cupboards,  and 
you  never  have  it  but  when  you  have  company,  and  then  you  cut  it 
up  into  little  pieces  and  pass  it  round  on  your  best  plates,  instead  of 
treatmg  it  as  bread,  to  be  used  every  day  and  every  hour. 


SELECTIONS.  193 

From  a  Sermon  ox  Rom.  v.  15,  and  Eph.  ii.  8. 
Love  without  conscience  is  always  weak. 

"When  we  say  that  all  ranks  and  conditions  of  men  are  dear  to  God, 
we  say  just  what  every  parent's  heart  knows,  without  being  able  to 
explain.  When  danger  comes,  the  mother's  heart  would  not  seek  for 
the  strongest.  The  one  whom  she  would  sei2e  first  to  rush  out  with 
would  be  the  weakest.  And  how  came  we  to  feel  so  ?  That  nature  is 
put  into  us  that  it  may  be  a  perpetual  testimony  to  us  of  God's  love 
for  us. 

How  little  men  know  how  to  travel  towards  heaven!  It  is  as  if 
God  should  send  us  a  carriage  well  hung  on  springs,  well  lined  with 
soft  cushions,  and  should  tell  us  to  get  in  and  ride,  and  we  should  take 
all  our  baggage  on  our  backs  and  walk  along  just  behind  it.  So  men 
live.  There  is  the  carriage  of  God's  providence  right  before  them,  and 
there  they  go — trudge — trudge — trudge — to  heaven.  Poor  miserable 
blind  slaves  that  they  are ! 

It  is  time  that  we  were  done  talking  of  Death  as  "the  great  tyrant," 
"  the  enemy,"  &c.  Death ! — it  is  nothing  but  the  permission  to  the 
child  to  come  home — it  is  joy  broke  out — it  is  the  heart  budding  and 
blossoming  for  eternity ;  and  it  is  time  that  we  saw  through  it,  and 
ceased  to  talk  of  it  by  its  outside. 

I  think  that  in  the  life  to  come  my  heart  wiU  have  feehngs  like 
God's.  The  Httle  bell  that  a  babe  can  hold  in  its  fingers  may  strike  the 
same  note  as  the  great  bell  of  Moscow.  Its  note  may  be  soft  as  a 
bird's  whisper,  and  yet  it  is  the  same.  And  so  God  may  have  a  feel- 
ing, and  I,  standing  by  Him,  shall  have  the  same  feeling.  Where  He 
loves,  I  shall  love.  All  the  processes  of  the  Divine  mind  will  be  re- 
flected in  mine.  And  there  will  be  this  companionship  with  him  to 
eternity.  What  else  can  be  the  meaning  of  those  expressions  that  all 
that  we  have  is  Christ's,  and  God  is  ours,  and  we  are  heirs  of  God  ? 
To  inherit  God — who  can  conceive  of  it  ?  It  is  the  growing  marvel, 
and  will  be  the  growing  wonder  of  eternity. 

From  a  Sermon. 
Man  was  made  to  be  a  centre  of  forces,  and  his  life  is  to  consist  in 
acquiring  power,  and  then  using  it  outwardly  upon  others.    And  it  is 

13 


194  HENRY    WARD    EEECIIER. 

one  of  the  worst  effects  of  prosperity,  -when  it  makes  man  a  vortex  in- 
Btead  of  a  fountain,  so  that,  instead  of  throwing  out,  he  only  draws  in. 

I  think  it  is  a  sad  sight  to  look  at  one  of  the  receiving  hulks  at  the 
Navy  Yard.  To  think  that  that  was  the  ship  which  once  went  so  fear- 
lessly across  the  ocean !  It  has  come  back  to  be  anchored  in  the  quiet 
bay,  and  to  roll  this  way  and  that  with  the  tide.  Yet  that  is  what  many 
men  set  before  them  as  the  end  of  life — that  they  may  come  to  that  pass 
where  they  may  be  able  to  cast  out  an  anchor  this  way  and  an  anchor  that 
way,  and  never  move  again,  but  to  rock  lazily  with  the  tide — without 
a  sail — without  a  vo^^age — waiting  simply  for  decay  to  take  their  tim- 
bers apart.  And  this  is  what  men  call  *' retiring  from  business" — to 
become  simply  an  empty  old  hulk. 

!N'o  man  can  tell  whether  he  is  rich  or  poor  by  turning  to  his  ledger. 
It  is  the  heart  that  makes  the  man  rich.  He  is  rich  or  poor  according 
to  what  he  is,  not  accordmg  to  what  he  has  heaped  up  about  him. 

Never  forget  what  any  man  has  said  to  you  when  he  was  angry. 
Anger  is  a  bow  that  will  send  an  arrow  sometimes  where  another  feel- 
ing will  not;  and  if  an  angry  man  has  charged  you  with  any  thing,  you 
had  better  look  it  up. 

If  you  want  to  know  whether  you  are  a  Cliristian,  don't  look  to  see 
whetlier  you  ever  fail.  Ask  yourself  what  is  your  purpose — which  way 
is  your  face — which  way  is  your  heart.  The  helmsman  of  a  sliip  never 
keeps  his  helm  in  one  place,  because  as  the  ship  comes  up  to  the  true 
line  of  her  direction,  she  always  goes  a  Httle  beyond  it,  and  must  bo 
brought  back.  The  straight  line  of  her  course  is  made  up  of  a  thousand 
zigzags.  And  that  is  the  difference  between  you  as  a  wicked  man  and 
as  a  Christian.  The  wicked  man  switches  off  and  goes  on  another  road ; 
but  the  Christian  goes  zigzagging  to  Heaven. 

Every  one  must  come  to  Christ  and  say,  "  If  you  will  not  take  me 
with  all  my  failings,  I  cannot  be  saved!"  And  why  does  God  forgive 
us?  For  the  same  reason  that  the  mother  forgives  her  child — be- 
cause she  loves  it.  Just  as  the  sun  shines  on  decaying  flowers  and 
shrivelled  fruit,  because  it  is  his  nature — the  sun,  which  never  asks  a 
question,  but  says,  "If  any  thing  wants  to  be  shinod  on,  let  it  hold 
itself  up."  And  so  God  says,  "I  will  forgive  you,  for  your  repeated 
transgressions."     Do  you  ask  what  becomes  of  them  ?     "What  becomes 


SELECTIONS.  195 

of  the  hasty  words  you  spoke  yesterday  to  her  yon  love  ?  "  I  don't 
know  where  they  are,"  says  the  wife.  "  I  am  sure  I  do  not,"  says  the 
husband.  They  are  gone.  They  are  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  her  heart. 
JSTo !  not  to  the  bottom,  for  there  she  keeps  her  love.  There  is  only  one 
thing  that  can  be  annihilated,  and  that  is  wrong-doing  to  one  who 
loves  you. 

Feom  a  Seemox  ox  Ps.  cxvL  7. 
The  face  of  man  is  a  disturbed  face.     Rest  is  not  with  men  even  at 
home.     It  is  not  with  them  in  the  broodings  of  the  night — it  comes 
not  with  the  morning's  flush. 

As  men  live,  the  gi-atification  of  one  part  of  the  mind  is  at  the  ex- 
pense of  another.  Our  hours  are  forever  quarrelling  with  each  other. 
The  resolutions  and  desires  of  to-day — poor  things  ! — to-morrow  will 
hunt  them  out  of  your  shops  and  stores. 

That  narrow  and  intense  moment  of  the  pressure  of  temptation. 

Men  are  like  bii'ds  that  build  their  nests  in  trees  that  hang  over  rivers. 
And  the  bird  sings  in  the  tree-top,  and  the  river  sings  underneath,  un- 
dermining and  undermining,  and  in  the  moment  when  the  bird  thinks 
not,  it  comes  crashing  down,  and  the  nest  is  scattered,  and  all  goes 
floating  down  the  flood. 

If  we  build  to  ambition,  we  are  like  men  who  build  as  before  the  track 
of  a  volcano's  eruption,  sure  to  be  overtaken  and  burnt  up  by  its  hot 
lava. 

If  we  build  to  wealth,  we  are  as  those  who  build  upon  the  ice.  The 
spring  wiU  melt  our  foundations  from  under  us. 

Shall  we  build  to  earthly  afiections  ?  If  we  cannot  transfigure  those 
whom  we  love — if  we  cannot  behold  the  eternal  world  shining  through 
the  faces  of  father  and  mother,  of  husband  and  wife — if  we  cannot  be- 
hold them  aU  irradiated  with  the  glory  of  the  supernal  sphere,  it  were 
not  best  to  buOd  for  love.  Death  erects  his  batteries  right  over  against 
our  homes,  and  in  the  hour  when  we  think  not,  the  missile  flies  and  ex- 
plodes, carrying  destruction  all  around. 

Of  all  impotent  creatures,  man  is  the  weakest  when  he  tries  to  con- 
quer and  put  down  himself.  It  is  as  when  old  ocean  tries  to  put  down 
waves  with  waves;  there  are  no  storms  such  as  those  which  rise  when 
man  attempts  to  conquer  his  passions. 


196  HENRY   WARD    BEECHER. 

All  men  know  that  they  are  to  live  again.  But  it  is  another  thing  to 
have  that  blessed  truth  wafted  from  heaven,  so  that  it  is  to  us  a  new 
truth  which  no  man  has  ever  known  before. 

There  are  those  in  this  congregation,  I  know,  who  see  Heaven  more 
plainly  than  they  do  earth,  if  by  plamly,  we  mean  effectively. 

We  are  beleaguered  by  Time,  and  parallel  after  parallel  is  drawn 
around  us,  and  then  a  charge  is  made,  and  we  see  the  enemy's  flag  wav- 
ing on  some  outwork.  And  as  the  sense  of  hearing,  and  touch,  and 
sight  fails,  and  a  man  finds  aU  these  marks  of  time  upon  him,  oh  woe ! 
if  he  has  no  Hereafter,  as  a  final  Citadel  into  which  to  retreat. 

Over  against  every  trial  I  see  Christ  standing,  and  I  hear  Him  saying 
ever  with  the  same  voice,  which  is  deep  as  eternity,  "  Come  unto  me, 
and  I  will  give  yon  rest." 

A  select  church  is  a  dead  church.  A  church's  power  consists  in  its 
cutting  the  loaf  of  society  from  the  top  to  the  bottom. 

I  think  the  human  heart  is  like  an  artist's  studio.  You  can  tell  what 
the  artist  is  doing,  not  so  much  by  his  completed  pictures,  for  these  are 
mostly  scattered  at  ouce,  but  by  the  half-finished  sketches  and  designs 
which  are  hanging  on  his  wall.  And  so  you  can  tell  the  course  of  a 
man's  fife,  not  so  much  by  his  well-defined  purposes,  as  by  the  half-formed 
plans — the  faint  day-dreams,  which  are  hung  in  all  the  chambers  of 
his  heart. 


CHARACTER   AND   EXPEDIENCES.  197 

CHARACTER    AND    EXPERIENCES. 

This  presentation  of  Mr.  Beeclier's  \iews  and  style  not  only  sheds 
light  upon  the  sources  of  his  attraction  as  a  preacher,  but  illustrates 
^  his  originahty,  independence,  and  mission,  the  three  things  which 
individualize  him.  His  mind  pre-eminently  works  from  its  own  start- 
ing-point, and  in  its  own  way.  It  is  essentially  creative,  and  it  is 
singularly  free.  Before  grappling  a  subject,  it  strips  it  from  all  the 
accumulated  surroundings  of  past  discussion.  It  builds  on  no  other 
man's  foundation.  It  inherits  the  characteristics  of  Dr.  Lyman 
Beecher's  mind ;  and  very  descriptive  is  the  Boston  division  of  the 
human  race  into  the  "  Good,  the  Bad,  and  the  Beechers." 

Of  a  man's  mission  it  is  as  well  not  to  speak  till  the  work  is  done. 
Every  man  has  one,  though  in  only  a  few  are  the  world  interested. 
It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  next  generation  may  speak  of  Mr.  Beecher 
with  more  of  profound  and  universal  interest ;  and  the  Church  may, 
perhaps,  regard  him  with  ever-living  gratitude.     That  he  is  doing  a 
great  work  of  some  kind,  no  one  doubts;  that   he  is  influencing 
Humanity  more  than  any  other  living  preacher,  no  one  need  to  doubt ; 
that  both  his  influence  and  his  actual  strength  are  constantly  grow- 
ing, is  manifest     Look  for  a  moment  at  the  facts.     Consider  first 
his  regular  congregation,  the  largest  in  the  country,  so  eager  in 
attendance  that  the  annual  sale  of  pews  yields  $12,000,  and  proba- 
bly twice  as  many  might  be  rented.     See,  secondly,  his  audience  of 
from  two  to  three   thousand,  ever   attentive,  and   even   absorbed. 
Note,  thirdly,  the  church,  consisting  of  nearly  eight  hundred  mem- 
bers, to  which  additions  are  made  at  every  communion, — a  vigorous, 
effective,   and  devoted   church,  giving  practical  expression  to  his 
views.     Mark,  fourthly,  the  boat-loads  every  Sunday  morning  and 
evening  from  New  York,  made  up  of  occasional  heai-ers  from  other 
congregations,  and  from  the  country ;  for  most  visitants  to  New  York 
from   east,  north,  and  west,  hear  him.     A  New  York  merchant, 
whose  trade  covers  the  "West,  states,  that  a  majority  of  his  customers 
speak  at  his  store  of  attending  Mr.  Beecher's  church  as  a  part  of 
the  trip  East.     "  To  hear  Beecher"  is  down  on  the  memorandum. 
Note,  fifthly,  that  he  publishes  a  weekly  "  Star"  article  in  the  "  Inde- 


19S  HEXKY    AVAED    BEECHEE. 

pendent,"  witli  its  hundred  thousand  readers,  ninety  thousand  of 
whom  turn  to  his  illumination  fii'st ;  and  now  and  then  some  pub- 
lisher issues  a  book  of  his,  which  advertises  its  — th  edition  before 
some  journals  are  awake  to  its  first  appearance. 

Besides  this,  sixthly,  he  speaks  at  the  public  dinner,  and  from  the 
platform,  and  is  reported  in  the  papers.  Everybody  knows  of  him. 
One  from  New  York  cannot  go  to  any  part  of  the  North  or  West, 
even  among  remote  villages  and  quiet  farm-houses,  without  being  cat- 
echised about  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  There  is  no  good  pubhc  man 
whose  name  is  so  often  in  men's  mouths,  and  but  few  wicked  ones. 

A  resident  of  the  South  tells  us  that  New  Orleans  discusses  him 
equally  with  New  York;  and  there  also  rally  defenders,  as  well  as 
assailers.  It  is  manifest  that  the  more  he  is  known  the  stronger  is 
his  hold  on  the  public  heart ;  and  prejudices  melt  before  his  actual 
presence  and  living  voice.  As  illustrative,  we  knew  a  party  of  four 
Southern  gentlemen  stopping  last  year  at  the  St.  Nicholas,  New 
York,  one  of  whom  was  induced  to  hear  him  preach.  He  went 
with  Southern  abhorrence,  and  returned  with  Northern  enthusiasm. 
He  persuaded  his  three  friends  to  go  on  the  next  Sabbath,  and  the 
efiect  was  such  that  they  altered  their  plan  of  travel,  stayed  over 
another  week,  and,  finally,  would  not  leave  without  an  introduction,  at 
which  Southern  frankness  vied  in  expression  with  Southern  heartiness. 

We  know  of  a  clergyman  who  lately  came  to  hear  him  for  the 
first  time.  He  was  for  many  years  a  pastor  in  Eastern  Connecticut, 
is  now  over  seventy  years  of  age,  and  has  always  been  a  zealous 
advocate  for  revivals.  Indeed,  he  was  associated  with  Nettleton,  and 
has  labored  much  and  effectively  in  Connecticut  as  an  evangelist  at 
protracted  meetings.  He  is  one  of  those  whose  faith  in  the  progress 
of  Christianity  centres  in  revivals,  and  who  regards  re^^vals  as  the 
definite  and  sole  end  of  all  religious  efibrt.  He  had  been  much 
exercised  about  Mr.  Beecher,  lest  his  preaching  was  below  the 
Gospel  standard,  and  his  influence  not  conducive  to  evangelical 
doctrines. 

In  his  solicitude  he  came  to  hear  him.  Entering  the  church,  not 
before  the  usual  hour,  he  found  it  filled  to  overflowing,  and  with 
diflSculty  secured  a  place  in  the  aisle.     As  the  discourse  proceeded 


LECTDEES.  199 

he  became  intensely  interested,  and  finally  gave  manifest  expression 
to  his  emotions.  After  service  he  met  one  of  the  members  of  the 
church,  a  friend  of  former  days,  and  said  in  the  deliberative  style  of 
age,  "I  came  to  hear  your  minister."  "Well,  how  do  you  like 
him  ?"  With  distinctive  emphasis  he  replied,  "  He  is  a  godly  man. 
Don't  you  have  a  revival  here  all  the  time  .^" 

He  lectures,  also,  about  eighty  times  a  year  in  various  parts  of  the 
country.  Then  the  region  round  about  awakes,  and  every  road 
pours  in  its  tribute  to  the  overflowing  audience.  All  associations 
want  him.  He  is  overborne  by  lecture-invitations.  Last  winter  he 
received  five  hundred  letters  on  this  point  alone,  and  had  to  employ 
an  assistant  to  read  and  answer.  As  there  are  few  preachers  who 
exchange  so  seldom,  and  who  so  rarely  fail  to  give  the  weekly  reli- 
mous  lecture,  it  follows  that  most  of  these  must  be  declined.  When 
he  began  to  lecture  it  was  not  in  harmony  with  his  feelings  to  fix  a 
price ;  and  it  was  only  after  two  years  of  argument  by  his  friends, 
and  when  a  fixed  price,  and  that  a  high  one,  was  necessary  for  per- 
sonal protection,  that  he  consented  to  it. 

He  said,  "  I  do  not  wish  to  charge  fifty  or  a  hundred  dollars  for 
speaking  one  evening :  it  is  not  worth  it."  Indeed,  so  burdensome 
had  come  to  be  this  matter  of  making  arrangements  to  satisfy  Lec- 
ture Committees,  that  last  spring  the  proposal  was  made  by  three 
prominent  men  of  his  congregation  to  take  upon  themselves  the 
labor  and  responsibility  of  arranging  where  and  when  he  should 
speak,  and  of  making  all  the  bargains  with  Associations.  His  much 
lecturing  is  criticised,  and  there  is  reason  to  question  whether  it  is 
best  for  a  pastor  to  employ  time  and  thought  in  this  way.  But  if 
any  one  ought,  Mr.  Beecher  is  the  one,  because  his  resources  enable 
him  to  do  the  work  of  lectm-ing  and  preaching,  and  to  do  both  well. 
But  to  those  who  object  on  the  ground  that  a  minister  ought  not  to 
earn  money,  we  are  free  to  say  that  we,  on  the  contrary,  like  to  see 
good  men  earn  and  have  money, — they  make  such  good  use  of  it — 
they  scatter  it  so  among  the  aspiring  and  the  homeless  and  the  out- 
cast of  this  world.  Take  Mr.  Beecher  for  an  example.  His  benevo- 
lences are  without  stint.  A  few  Sabbaths  ago,  for  a  struggling  church 
in  Williamsburg,  he  preached  a  sermon  vv^hich  cost  his  congrega- 


200  HENEY    WARD    BEECHER. 

tion  $2000  and  himself  $100,  and  the  church  was  saved.  The  only 
diflference  between  paying  such  a  man  one  hundred  or  two  hundred 
dollars  a  night  is,  that  in  one  case  the  poor  have  twice  as  much  as 
they  otherwise  would. 

Lastly,  Mr.  Beecher,  besides  his  preaching,  lecturing,  and  writing, 
has  come  prominently  before  the  people  on  three  occasions :  in  his 
famous  extinguishment  of  John  Mitchel ;  in  his  publication  and 
defence  of  "  the  Plymouth  Collection  of  Hymns,"  which  has  stirred 
the  rehgious  community;  and  in  his  anti-slavery  speech  of  1855, 
which  commanded  the  respect  of  the  best  minds  of  the  country,  for 
its  fair,  sound,  and  thorough  discussion  of  the  prevailing  controversy 
between  the  North  and  the  South.  We  heard  a  distinguished  citizen 
of  New  England  speak  of  it  with  surprise,  as  evidencing  such  depth 
and  breadth  of  thought.  "  It  is  not  only  original  and  keen  as  we 
should  expect,  but  it  is  truly  philosophical.  It  has  the  profound 
analysis  of  Carlyle,  with  far  greater  felicity  of  expression." 

Most  people  concede  that  he  has  lively  perceptions  of  truth,  pic- 
turesqueness  of  language,  heroism  of  utterance,  and  brilliancy  of 
imagination  ;  but,  with  this  single  exception,  he  has  not  demon- 
sti-ated,  outside  of  his  pulpit,  his  power  of  broad  generalizations  and 
philosophical  insight.  We  hope  he  will  yet  do  it,  and  in  the  fomi 
which  outlives  speech. 

But  though  a  profound  thinker,  he  is  not  technically  a  profound 
scholar.  He  is  little  versed  in  the  lore  of  the  schools.  He  is  not 
conversant  with  other  men's  thoughts.  He  is  guileless  of  Hebrew, 
and  in  exposition  of  Scripture  rarely  deviates  from  King  James's 
translation.  He  deals  little  in  exegesis,  and  little  in  the  comparison 
and  grouping  of  texts,  though  this  remark  would  have  been  more 
true  a  year  ago,  and  will  be  less  true  a  year  hence. 

Not  only  in  Mr.  Beecher's  public  discourse,  is  his  growing  power 
shown,  but  in  sundry  efforts  to  "  put  him  down,"  prompted  either 
by  misapprehension  of  his  \aews,  by  denominational  rivalry,  or  by 
political  persecution.  It  is  superfluous  now  to  particularize  these,  as 
they  have  all  ended  in  the  after-regret  of  some,  and  the  discomfiture 
of  all  engaged ;  while  to  his  friends  they  have  proved  a  source  of 
exhilaration.     It  is  generally  conceded  by  his  opponents  that  it  is 


GENEALOGY.  201 

unwise  to  rouse  him.  Yet  a  letter  from  a  distinguished  gentleman 
at  the  East  expresses  the  sentiment  of  many :  "  You  have  doubtless 

read  Beecher's  annihilation  of .     Is  it  not  cajDital  ? 

I  hke  the  way  he  has  when  he  gets  into  a  row.  He  pitches  in  so 
lustily.  But,  after  all,  he  seems  to  me  to  have  rather  an  Irishman';< 
love  of  the  shillaleh.  And  though  he  always  comes  out '  first-best,' 
yet  as  I  see  him  now,  with  hat  jammed  down  over  his  eyes,  red  and 
dusty,  I  must  confess  he  does  not  look  to  me  altogether  clerical." 

With  such  power  and  such  experiences  it  is  not  strange  that  Mr. 
Beecher  knows  his  strength,  as  every  strong  man  does ;  but  he  also 
knows  his  weaknesses,  as  every  strong  man  does  not.  Those  judge 
unjustly  who  call  him  conceited.  Conceit  lies  either  in  thinking  too 
highly  of  self,  or  in  giving  undue  thought  to  self.  Mr.  Beecher  does 
neither.  He  has  the  two  accompaniments  of  greatness — self-respect, 
with  self-abnegation.  It  is  beautiful  to  note  how  much  consideration 
he  has  of  himself,  and  how  little  for  himself:  Self  is  not  his  life-aim, 
but  the  Gospel  of  truth.  To  this  he  is  consecrated.  The  greatness 
of  the  work  has  absorbed  all  the  minutiae  of  self-promotion.  In  this 
he  lives,  for  this  he  is  ready  to  die.  The  idea  of  his  saying,  after 
one  of  his  sermons,  "  Did  I  not  speak  well  ?"  is  absurd,  but  rather — 
"  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  And  this  ignoring  of  self  grows  as  the  years  go  by.  "Mor- 
tality" is  more  and  more  "  swallowed  up  of  hfe." 

The  American  Phrenological  Journal  has  published  the  following, 
which  is  authentic : 

"  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher  was  born  at  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  Octo- 
ber 12th,  1775.  All  his  ancestors  were  devout  and  professedly  re- 
ligious men.  His  great-great-grandfather,  John  Beecher,  was  born 
in  Kent  county,  England,  and  came  to  New  Haven.  His  great- 
grandmother  was  the  daughter  of  a  full-blooded  Welsh  woman,  a 
Roberts.  Thus  the  blood  of  the  Beechers  received  a  happy  mixture 
of  Welsh  blood,  with  its  poetry  and  music,  and  its  insatiable  and 
intolerable  love  of  genealogy;  for  no  Welshman  ever  lived  who 
had  not  a  clear  genealogical  turnpike  opened  up  to  Adam's  very 
front  door-yard.  The  Beecher  blood  was  dashed  with  hypochon- 
dria.    Dr.  Beecher  himself,  his  father,  and  his  grandfather,  were,  in 


202  .  HENKY    WARD    BEECnEE. 

early  life,  great  sufferers  from  that  cause ;  but  in  eacli  case  it  wore 
out  -vvitli  years,  leaving  a  serene  and  cheerful  old  age.  Dr.  Beecher's 
own  mother  was  a  Lyman,  whose  blood  was  made  of  champagne, 
loyous,  sparkling,  hopeful,  and  against  all  rebuff  and  disappointment 
hoping  still.  *  ^  *  Henry  Ward  Beecher  is  remarkable  for 
the  soundness  and  y\gOT  of  his  physical  constitution.  Every  bodily 
organ  is  strong,  and  exceedingly  active.  His  vital  organs  are  large, 
and  peculiarly  healthy.  Only  his  stomach  is  in  the  least  degree 
affected,  and  that  only  partially,  and  occasionally.  His  lungs  are 
verj'  large,  and  very  fine.  He  measures  under  the  arms  more  than 
one  in  thousands ;  and  his  muscles  are  uncommonly  dense,  sprightly, 
and  vigorous.  All  his  motions  are  quick  and  elastic,  yet  peculiarly 
firm  and  strong,  tossing  his  body  about  as  if  it  were  as  light  as  a 
foot-ball — a  condition  characteristic  of  distinguished  men.  He  fos- 
ters this  condition  by  taking  a  great  amount  of  physical  exercise, 
and  also  of  rest  and  recreation.  When  he  does  work,  he  works  with 
his  whole  might,  until  his  energies  are  nearly  expended,  and  then 
gives  himself  up  to  sleep,  relaxation,  and  cheerful  conversation,  per- 
haps for  days  together,  until,  ha^^ng  again  filled  up  the  reservoir  of 
life-power,  he  becomes  capable  of  putting  forth  another  ^^gorous  ef- 
fort. Mention  is  made  of  this  fact  to  call  attention  to  the  importance 
of  keeping  up  a  full  supply  of  animal  energy.  Many  men  fail  just 
as  they  are  becoming  distinguished  because  of  premature  exhaus- 
tion ;  whereas,  a  little  husbanding  of  their  strength  would  have 
saved  them.  One  of  Beecher's  cardinal  doctrines  and  practices  is  to 
keep  his  body  in  first-rate  working  order,  just  as  a  good  workman 
keeps  his  tools  well  sharpened.  The  second  cardinal  point  in  his 
character  is  the  unwonted  size  of  his  Benevolence.  It  is  the  great 
phrenological  centre  of  his  brain,  and  towers  above  every  other 
organ  in  his  head.  While  most  heads  rise  higher  at  Firmness  than 
at  Benevolence,  his  rises  higher  at  Benevolence.  It  is  really  enor- 
mous. Acquisitiveness  is  almost  entirely  wanting.  He  never  thinks 
whether  this  or  that  sermon  or  doctrine  will  increase  or  diminish  his 
salary,  but  simply  asks  whether  it  is  true.  In  his  first  sermon  to  his 
present  congregation,  he  told  them  that  they  might  expect  to  hear 
the  truth,  and  the  whole  truth ;   that  if  he  thereby  curtailed  his 


BIOGKAPIIY.  203 

salary,  curtailed  it  must  be ;  tliat  he  liad  lived  on  bread  and  water, 
aud  could  do  so  again ;  and  that  all  lie  needed  was  a  bare  living, 
and  that  he  could  procure  without  temporizing.  His  Firmness  is 
extraordinary.  Veneration,  though  inferior  to  Benevolence  and  Firm- 
ness, is  large,  and  considerably  larger  than  it  was  two  years  ago, 
while  Marvellousness  is  comparatively  wanting.  Hope  is  unbounded. 
Comparison  is  the  master-element  of  his  mind.  Language  is  the 
second  largest  intellectual  organ.  His  elocution  is  pecuharly  free 
and  flowing.  No  one  can  be  at  a  loss  to  know  exactly  what  he 
means,  as  he  has  the  rare  faculty  of  transferring  the  full  power  of 
his  thoughts  and  feelings  into  the  minds  of  his  hearers  and  readers. 
His  descriptive  powers  are  rarely  equalled,  and  gi'eatly  aided  by  Im- 
itation and  large  Ideahty,  as  he  is  a  great  mimic.  If  any  living  man 
may  properly  be  called  a  child  of  nature^  and  pre-eminently  true  to 
that  nature,  it  is  H.  W.  Beecher.  Few  men  are  less  perverted,  or 
more  true  to  their  instincts.  In  this,  more  than  in  any  thing  else, 
resides  his  Samson  strength.  It  gives  him  simplicity,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  strength  unequalled  by  those  whose  capabilities  are  much 
greater." 

Mr.  Beecher  was  bom  in  Litchfield,  Connecticut,  June  24th,  1813. 
He  was  graduated  at  Amherst  College  in  1834.  He  studied  theol- 
ogy at  Lane  Seminary,  Cincinnati,  which  was  under  the  direction  of 
his  father.  He  was  first  settled  as  a  Presbyterian  minister  at  Law- 
renceburg.  Dearborn  county,  Indiana,  in  1837,  where  he  remained 
two  years.  From  thence  he  removed  to  Indianapolis,  the  capital  of 
the  State.  There  he  remained  till  accepting  the  unanimous  call  of 
a  new  Congregational  society  in  Brooklyn,  New  York.  He  was  in- 
stalled pastor  of  the  church  in  October,  1847.  His  salary  at  first 
was  $1,500,  pledged  by  three  persons,  when  the  church  enterprise 
was  an  experiment.  It  is  now  $4,000,  having  been  gradually  ad- 
vanced without  his  request.  He  is  now  forty-two  years  of  age,  and 
possessed  of  great  physical  energy  and  vitality.  He  is  of  medium 
height,  muscular  physique,  and  florid  complexion,  quick  in  his  move- 
ments, and  vigorous  in  his  habits.  The  original  formation  of  his 
face  is  sensuous.  He  would  have  been,  if  not  spiritually  devel- 
oped, a  hearty,  yeomanly-looking  man.     His  face  now  is  indicative 


204:  HEXKY    WARD    BEECHEE. 

of  developed  soul-power.  Humor  plays  about  the  mouth ;  expres- 
sion flows  from  the  large,  full,  and  swimming  blue  eye,  and  intellect 
is  stamped  upon  the  expansive  face,  and  swelling  brow  and  temples. 
His  manners  are  cordial,  frank,  unstudied  and  youthful,  which  im- 
pel people,  though  strangers,  to  shake  hands  with  him.  His  voice 
is  compact,  of  not  wide  range,  only  fair  in  gentle  inflections,  but 
gifted  in  strength  of  tone.  It  never  fails  to  be  heard  throughout 
the  largest  house,  and  yet  is  not  usually  loud,  and  seldom  makes 
the  hearer  unpleasantly  conscious  of  its  power.  He  reads  well,  re- 
markably well ;  but  not  so  much  from  superiority  of  voice,  as  from 
exquisite  appreciation  and  rare  naturalness.  Hence  his  reading  is  free 
from  tone,  and  his  touch  of  inflection  and  emphasis  is  of  the  nicest. 
Both  voice  and  face  have  at  times  a  loving  and  beautiful  ex- 
pression. 

Mr.  Beecher  is  one  of  a  family  of  thirteen  children,  ten  of  whom 
are  living.  His  mother,  Roxana  Foote,  of  Guilford,  Connecticut,  who 
died  when  he  was  three  years  old,  was  one  of  those  endowed  wo- 
men, who,  not  favored  with  w^hat  some  esteem  the  essential  advan- 
tages of  town  culture  and  range  of  libraries,  was  gifted,  direct  from 
the  abundant  bounty  of  Nature,  with  the  refined  tastes,  exquisite 
appreciations,  acute  intellect,  and  lofty  aspirings  which  finished  edu- 
cation in  Literature  and  Art  claims  as  its  exclusive  prerogative.  She 
was  a  natural  painter,  and  not  unsuccessful  in  the  practice  of  the 
art.  Nature  was  ever  an  open  book,  from  which  she  read  with  ir- 
repressible delight,  and  flowers  w^ere  among  her  beautiful  loves. 
She  was  a  woman  of  superior  expression  of  face  and  of  com- 
manding presence,  and  of  a  manner  uniting  gentleness  w^th  dignity, 
w^hich  invested  her  with  a  serene  attractiveness ;  and  she  inspired  an 
ajQfection  which  drew  nigh  to  adoration.  Her  piety  was  a  profound 
experience,  and  her  spiritual  capacities  were  of  that  receptive  fulness 
which  characterize  persons  like  Madame  Guyon,  giving  intensity  to 
her  appreciation  of  all  spiritual  truths.  Mr.  Beecher  inherits  from  his 
father  his  ruggedness  of  strength,  but  to  his  mother  is  he  indebted 
for  the  poetry,  taste,  perception  of  the  Beautiful,  and  sympathetic 
tenderness  which  are  his  gifts. 

The  other  members  of  the  family  are.  Miss  Catharine  E.  Beecher, 


205 

distinguished  as  an  authoress ;  Rev.  William  H.  Beecher,  of  Red- 
ding, Massachusetts  ;  Edward  Beecher,  D.  D.,  now  settled  at  Gales- 
burgh,  Illinois,  author  of  the  "  Conflict  of  Ages ;"  Mrs.  Mary  F. 
Perkins,  wife  of  Thomas  C.  Perkins,  of  Hartford,  one  of  the  first 
lawyers  of  Connecticut ;  Rev.  George  Beecher,  who  was  killed  by 
the  accidental  discharge  of  a  gun  at  Chillicothe,  Ohio,  in  1840 ; 
Mrs.  Harriet  E.  Stowe,  wife  of  Professor  Stowe,  of  Andover  Theo- 
logical Seminary,  and  authoress  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin ;"  Henry 
Ward,  and  Rev.  Charles  Beecher. 

Dr.  Beecher  has  had  four  children  by  his  second  wife,  Harriet 
Porter,  of  Portland,  Maine ;  three  of  whom  are  living — Thomas  R., 
a  clergyman ;  Isabella,  wife  of  John  Hooker,  of  Hartford ;  and 
James  C,  a  student  of  theology. 

Mr.  Beecher  was  married,  in  1837,  to  Miss  Bullard,  sister  of  the 
late  Rev.  Dr.  Bullard,  of  St.  Louis,  who  was  killed  in  the  railroad 
accident  at  Gasconade  Bridge,  of  Rev.  Asa  Bullard,  of  Boston,  and 
Rev.  E.  Bullard,  of  Royalton,  Vermont.  He  has  had  nine  children, 
four  of  whom  are  living. 

He  takes  his  given  name  from  two  brothers  of  his  mother,  who 
died  young,  and  w^ere  named  after  their  father,  Henry  Ward ;  who, 
it  is  worthy  of  note,  showed  a  characteristic  independence  and  prin- 
ciple in  declining  to  receive  the  rum-rations  when  an  oflScer  in  the 
French  and  Indian  war,  at  the  capture  of  Louisbourg;  and  the 
money,  which  he  received  instead,  he  had  made  into  spoons  and 
marked  "  Louisbourg,"  which  are  still  preserved  in  the  family.  So 
that  Henry  Ward  Beecher  "comes  rightfully"  by  his  temperance 
principles. 

He  has  made  one  brief  trip  to  Europe  in  1852,  and  the  impres- 
sion he  produced  is  described  in  the  following  spirited  paragraph, 
published  in  the  British  Banner,  and  written,  we  understand,  by  Dr. 
Campbell,  an  admirable  judge  of  men  and  of  preaching : 

"  Mr.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  is  by  far  the  most  amusing  and  fas- 
cinating American  it  has  ever  been  our  lot  to  meet.  He  is  a  mass 
of  flaming  fire — restless,  fearless,  brilliant — a  mixture  of  the  poet, 
the  orator,  and  the  philosopher,  such  as  we  have  seldom,  if  ever. 


206  HENKY    WAKD    BEECIIER. 

found  in  any  other  man  to  the  same  extent.  He  is  vivacious  beyond 
even  the  temperature  of  Paris,  and  mirthful  even  to  wildness,  seem- 
ing not  to  know  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  care  or  sorrow  in  the 
world  !" 

With  allusion  to  some  happy  qualities,  and  we  are  done. 

1.  The  summary  of  Mr.  Beecher  is  health — health  of  body,  of 
mind,  and  of  heart,  with  the  consequent  elasticity,  vigor,  freshness, 
and  vitality ;  with  firm  will  and  robust  affections.  His  blood  flows 
free  and  strong,  through  brain  and  muscle.  He  never  looks  at  sub- 
jects morbidly ;  never  takes  a  dyspeptic  view  of  life ;  is  never  more 
solemn  than  the  case  demands. 

2.  Mr.  Beecher  has  what  Coleridge  speaks  of  as  "the  moral 
accompaniment  and  actuating  principle  of  genius,"  which,  in  the 
following  suggestive  sentence,  he  defines  to  be  "  the  carrying  on  of 
the  freshness  and  feelings  of  childhood  into  the  powers  of  manhood." 

3.  His  sympathy  with  nature.  No  note  of  bird,  no  sound  of 
water,  no  sweep  of  tree,  nor  wave  of  grain,  nor  wild-flower  efflo- 
rescence, escapes  his  sense  or  fails  to  utter  its  spiritual  meaning. 
Old  ocean's  voice,  also,  and  the  advancing  storm,  the  distilling  dew, 
and  the  silent  snow,  are  vocal  to  his  ear  of  truth,  of  love,  and  of  all 
pervading  Divinity.  This  is  noticeable  somewhat  in  the  "Star 
Papers,"  but  for  more  in  his  sermons. 

4.  His  acute  observation  of  men.  He  manages  to  see  all  classes, 
to  apprehend  all  varieties  of  notions  and  prejudices,  to  know  multi- 
plied experiences,  to  appropriate  manifold  expressions,  and  to  get  at 
the  core  of  society  and  the  heart  of  humanity. 

6.  He  has  the  characteristic  of  genius,  to  see  things  just  as  they 
are  and  describe  just  as  he  sees.  Hence  his  remarkable  analyses 
of  character,  which  strike  home  to  everybody — those  life-pictures  in 
which,  to  most,  his  fascination  lies,  and  which  are  probably  his  forte. 
Quite  as  much  to  an  honest  scanning  of  his  own  mind  and  heart- 
workings  is  this  power  attributable. 

G.  His  affluence.  One  can  only  realize  the  creative  vigor  of  his 
genius  by  repeated  hearing.  He  preaches  three  sermons  a  week, 
two  of  which  are  from  an  hour  to  an  hour  and  a  half  long,  and  yet 


CHARACTERISTICS.  207 

he  never  repeats  and  never  says  what  is  not  fresli.  It  seems  impos- 
sible to  exhaust  his  resources.  Only  the  wealth  of  his  genius  seems 
greater  than  the  lavishness  of  its  expenditure.  In  this  we  know  not 
his  equal,  in  Church  or  State.  He  never  preaches  a  sermon  that  is 
not  remarkable.  They  have  differences  of  degree  and  striking  con- 
trasts of  feature,  but  are  never  commonplace,  and  are  usually  great. 

^.  Mr.  Beecher  is  noteworthy  for  common  sense,  a  gift  rare  as 
talent.  He  never  does  violence  to  the  universal  sense  of  mankind. 
He  takes  along  with  him  the  convictions  of  most,  and  the  sympa- 
thies of  all.  With  his  manifold  Extempore,  talking  week  after 
week,  without  notes  and  without  fetters,  in  pulpit  and  on  platform, 
of  all  matters — ^religious,  social,  and  political,  the  most  exciting  and 
the  most  familiar — it  is  a  little  remarkable  that  he  has  said  so  fcAV 
indiscreet  things,  and  so  few  tame  things,  and  that  he  has  rarely  dis- 
tressed an  audience  by  pounding  his  own  fingers  instead  of  the  nail- 
head. 

8.  His  familiar  greatness.  Most  men  are  greater  abroad  than  at 
nome.  Their  best  efforts  are  on  special  occasions.  The  opposite  is  sin- 
gularly true  of  Mr.  Beecher.  His  popular  lectures  and  published  wi'itings 
are  but  the  exuberant  offshoots  of  unusual  vitality,  compared  with  the 
depth  and  reach  of  his  sermons.  They  are  hke  the  escape-steam 
from  a  resting  locomotive — a  necessity,  and  a  beauty  too — as,  now 
earthward  over  meadow  and  through  trees,  now  heavenward,  it  rolls 
and  floats  away  in  free,  unstudied,  buoyant,  and  fantastic  forms. 
His  many-sidedness  prevents  any  comprehension  of  him  by  a  single 
lecture.  Only  on  his  own  platform  can  he  be  justly  known.  There 
let  us  regard  him.  Mark  the  substantial  building  up  of  truth  from 
the  rock-foundation ;  as  we  follow  the  progress  of  the  work,  note 
the  precise  and  ramified  definitions ;  observe  the  constant  good 
sense  evincing  "  that  just  balance  of  the  faculties  which  is  to  the 
judgment  what  health  is  to  the  body;"  enjoy  the  illustrations, 
simple,  multiplied,  and  apt ;  see  the  life-pictures,  artistic  and  beauti- 
ful in  their  fidelity  to  nature ;  hear  the  denunciation  of  oppressions 
and  of  shams,  in  contrast  with  the  yearning  pathos  of  loving  ap- 
peal ;  prepare  for  the  climax — it  is  reached ;  to  the  platform's  end 
he  walks  preparingly ;  muscles  harden,  and  forehead-veins  are  full — ■ 


208  HENRY    WARD    BEECIIER. 

now  it  comes,  that  outburst  of  impassioned  eloquence  Tvlien  "  speech 
is  all  heart,  and  heart  all  speech,"  when  words  are  interchangeably  the 
manna  of  the  desert,  the  thunder  of  the  mount,  and  the  meadow's 
dew ;  when  the  Unseen  is  revealed,  and  Utterance  is  the  servant  ol 
Inspiration ;  when  the  hush  of  Attention  is  surprised  into  Emotion, 
and  starting  tear  responds  to  quivering  lip.  "We  are  at  the  pinnacle, 
and  we  see  Henry  "Ward  Beecher,  as  he  is.  May  God  keep  "  his 
soul  from  death,  his  eyes  from  tears,  and  his  feet  from  falling !" 

In  conclusion,  we  present  a  phonographic  report  of  one  of  his  ex- 
tempore prayers,  which  gives  a  fair  representation  of  his  usual  Sab- 
bath ministrations. 

"  Our  souls  rejoice,  0  Thou  Blessed  One,  that  we  feel  ourselves 
drawn  towards  Thee,  for  it  is  not  in  us  to  rise;  and  when  our 
thoughts  are  all  tending  with  sweet  affection  towards  Heaven,  we 
know  that  there  have  been  solicitations,  and  that  God  hath  yearned 
for  us,  and  sent  forth  ministering  influences  to  waken  love,  and  lift 
oiu"  souls  towards  Him.  And  as  the  sun  doth  draw  up  all  vapors,  and 
wreathe  the  earth  round  about  the  mountain-tops  therewith,  so  in 
Thy  high  and  holy  place — yea,  up  towards  Mount  Zion,  above.  Thou, 
with  sweet  and  blessed  looking,  dost  draw  forth  our  affections  ;  and 
our  hearts  to-day  exhale  towards  Thee.  For  though  we  have  not 
seen  Thee,  we  know  Thee,  Thou  Mighty  One !  Though  we  have 
never  beheld  Thee  in  outward  form  and  guise,  our  hearts  have  taken 
hold  upon  Thee.  That  hand  that  was  pierced  for  us  hath  never 
been  laid  upon  us  in  our  path,  nor  have  those  sacred  wounded  feet 
crossed  our  threshold;  but  that  heart,  that  mind  of  Thine,  the  soul 
of  God,  hath  crossed  the  threshold  of  our  dwellings ;  and  with  our 
hearts,  full  often,  we  have  had  communion  with  Thee,  as  friend  with 
friend ! 

"And  in  the  times  of  darkness  and  of  temptation,  we  have 
wrestled  with  Thee,  even  as  the  Patriarch  of  old,  and  Thou  hast 
given  us  victories,  which  the  tongue  may  not  mention,  and  which 
the  heart  cannot  but  think  of  with  joy,  and  everlasting  gratitude. 
In  times  when  affliction  seemed  to  dissolve  us, — when  our  heart  was 
as  fruit  about  to  drop  from  the  bough,  and  there  was  no  more 


EXTEMPORE    PliAYER.  209 

Strength  by  which  to  lay  hold  upon  life,  Thou  hast  come,  Thou 
Blessed  One !  and  given  strength  again  to  lay  hold  on  life,  and  to 
be  happy  in  life,  and  to  rise  up  above  the  darkness  of  personal 
distress,  and  the  struggle  and  the  conflict  of  immingled  evils. 

"Thou  hast  made  us,  at  times,  fearful  of  dangers ;  but  afterwards 
Thou  hast  made  us  to  laugh,  as  children  laugh,  when  alarmed,  and 
then  look  back  to  see  that  it  was  but  the  shaking  of  a  leaf.  And  when 
things  have  seemed  to  settle  around  us  in  darkness,  and  troubles 
have  come  thick  upon  us,  Thou  hast  lifted  us  up,  and  put  our  feet 
upon  a  rock,  where  there  was  no  tide  that  could  reach,  and  no  wave 
that  could  dash,  and  no  flood  that  could  sweep  with  destroying  ed- 
dies about  us  to  unsettle  our  peace,  or  do  us  harm  in  thought  or 
feehng. 

"  And  we  have  been  made  masters,  that  before  had  been  servants 
to  our  circumstances.  We  have  been  able  to  stand  undaunted,  and 
to  beat  back  troubles  that  came  upon  us.  Thou  hast  lifted  us  up 
from  sorrows,  from  violence,  from  unexpected  evil.  "When  periods  of 
dismay  have  come— drifting  in  upon  us  like  difl^used  mists,  cold  and 
chill,— those  days  of  doubt,  when  we  could  see  nothing— when  the 
pall  of  silence  lay  upon  every  thing,  then  Thou  hast  likewise  mani- 
fested Thyself  unto  us.  Thou  hast  given  us,  at  last,  a  sweet  pa- 
tience to  stand  still,  and  to  loait ;  and  we  have  found  that  waiting 
by  Thy  side  is  better  than  running  alone ;  and  that  to  be  empty  and 
weak, /or  ChrisCs  sake,  is  better  than  to  be  full  for  our  own  sake. 

"  We  rejoice  that  Thou  hast,  in  a  thousand  ways,  manifested  Thy- 
self to  us,— in  all  the  variations  and  moods  of  sorrow,  of  suffering,  of 
discouragement ;  of  grief  that  rent  our  hearts ;  of  troubles  foreboded, 
but  which  did  not  come. 

"  We  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast  manifested  Thyself  to  us  in  all 
the  desires  and  yearnings  of  our  hearts.  We  have  looked  out  upon 
life  with  feelings  sometimes  of  joy,  and  then  with  a  sweet  sadness, 
because,  after  all,  there  was  so  little  in  it,  that  brightness  grew  dim, 
almost  before  it  had  flashed  its  brightness  forth ;  and  we  have  been 
glad  of  it. 

"  We  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast  addressed  Thyself  to  us  by  oui 
nobler  thoughts,  and  redeemed  the  worid  itself  from  emptiness,  and 

U 


210  HENRY    WARD   BEECHER. 

o-iven  it  back  to  us  crowned  and  glorified.  Thou  hast  made  the 
thino^  that  are  round  about  us — the  very  flowers  that  perish,  the 
leaves  that  wither  and  drop  away,  the  changes  of  the  season — all  aivi 
made  to  be  Thy  teachers  and  preachers  to  our  souls. 

"  But  these  things  alone  do  not  content  us ;  for  they  are  the  things 
of  the  lower  life,  and  we  have  yearned  for  that  which  we  have  not. 
We  have  had  divine  incitements ;  we  have  had  blessed  inspirations ; 
when  all  that  we  knew  seemed  so  fragmentary,  and  all  that  we  were 
so  exceedingly  little  and  less  than  fragmentary ;  when  we  have  felt 
that  our  affections  were  so  cold  and  ignoble  ;  when  especially,  from 
a  thought  of  our  own  ungratefulness  and  selfishness  and  pride,  we 
have  turned  to  the  bright  vision  of  Thy  love — so  sweet,  so  lasting,  so 
deep,  so  gentle,  so  delicate  beyond  all  expression  from  human 
tongue ;  when  we  have  seemed  to  ourselves  to  be  so  coarse,  so  low, 
so  ignoble,  that  we  scarcely  could  lift  up  our  eyes  unto  Thee  1  But 
Thou,  0  Blessed  One !  hast  been  pleased  to  look  upon  us — out  of 
the  brightness  and  radiance  of  Thine  own  perfections.  Out  of  the 
depth  and  purity  and  sweetness  of  Thine  own  love.  Thou  hast  looked 
forgivingly  upon  our  rudeness  and  our  hollowness,  our  pride,  our  sel- 
fishness, our  jealousy,  and  hast  uttered  to  our  soul  promises  that  we 
should  not  always  be  thus, — that  if  ice  ivoiild  have  faitli^  Thou 
wouldst  have  patience  ;  and  that  Thou  wouldst  bring  us  onward  and 
upward,  step  by  step,  shining  brighter  and  brighter  unto  the  perfect 
day! 

"  Lord  Jesus,  Thou  wilt  not  forsake  one  word  which  Thou  hast  ever 
uttered.  Thou  wilt  not  betray  one  single  hope  or  expectation  in  our 
hearts  which  Thou  hast  ever  suggested ;  and  all  which  Thou  hast  prom- 
ised Thou  wilt  not  only  do,  but  exceeding  abundantly  more.  Thou 
wilt  outrun  our  most  fruitful  conceptions ;  Thou  wilt  be  more  gen- 
tle than  our  heart  has  felt  in  its  most  raptured  moments  ;  Thou  wilt 
be  more  patient  than  our  utmost  conception  of  patience ;  Thou  wilt 
be  more  full  of  love  and  goodness  than  our  loftiest  aspirations. 

"  We  rejoice  tliat  there  is  in  Thee  such  infinite  goodness,  and  such 
height,  and  length,  and  breadth,  and  depth  of  mercy.  Still,  we  are 
not  willing  to  be  sinful,  or  low,  or  ignorant,  or  poor,  because  of  Thy 
goodness ;  though  we  have  a  strange  wonder  of  gladness  that  we 


EXTEMPOIiE   PEAYER.  211 

are  weak,  because  it  sets  forth  to  us  sucli  glories  in  Thee,  Thou  nour- 
^hing  God  !  patient  with  us,  as  a  nurse  is  patient  with  her  children  ' 
Yea,  Thou  hast  Thyself  declared,  that  the  mother  shall  forget  her 
nursmg  child  sooner  than  Thou  wilt  forget  those  whom  Thou  dost 
love!     We  take  the  promise  which  is  in  Thy  declaration,  and  we 
set  It  agamst  the  darkness  of  time  and  trouble,  and  weighing  down 
of  heart  with  sadness,  and  we   lift  ourselves,  by  this  divine  help 
above  them  all.     When  we  stand  under  the  darkest  cloud,  we  see 
the  bow  of  promise ;  and  we  know  that  God  will  not  suffer  the  soul 
to  be  overwhelmed  by  any  deluge. 

"And  now,  may  we  have  these  bright  days  more  frequently,  so 
that  their  shmmg  may  cast  a  twilight  into  the  dark  days  that  inter- 
vene.    As  they  that  watch  in  the  night  shall  behold  the  growing 
light  of  morning  reaching  up  the  hill-sides,  mounting  the  highest 
cliffs,  and  coming  down  upon  the  valleys  beyond,  so  mayest  Thou  who 
watchest  for  us  see  that  the  light  of  hope,  and  the  glory  of  God  is 
more  and  more  perfectly  enwapping  our  whole  experience.    For  it  is 
Thy  work,  blessed  Saviour :  we  are  being  fashioned  by  Thy  hand 
and  for  Thy  sake,  as  well  as  for  our  own.     Thou  art  yet  to  present 
us  before  the  throne  of  Thy  Father  spotless;  and  heaven  is  to  re- 
sound with  acclamations  of  gladness  for  our  sake,  and  for  Thy  sake. 
"Thou,  Lord  Jesus!  Thou  who  art  mighty  over  all  things,  and 
with  whom  we  are  fellow-heirs,  we  rejoice  that  in  all  the  things 
which  we  ask  for  ourselves  there  is  also  Thine  own  interest,  and 
Thme  own  joy  and  glory,  enwrapped ! 

"^ow  we  beseech  of  Thee  that  Thou  wilt  speak  peaceably  unto 
every  heart  in  Thy  presence  this  morning,  according  to  our  various 
necessity.  If  there  be  those  here  that  do  not  know  their  own 
trouble,  but  only  know  that  they  are  troubled,- T^Aow  knoivest,  and 
Thou  canst  enter  in,  and  make  the  darkest  chamber  of  their  heart 
serene  with  hght  and  peace ! 

"We  beseech  of  Thee  that  Thou  wilt  sustain  those  who  are  bear- 
ing the  pressure  of  affliction.     Thou  Thyself  didst  bear  affliction  for 
them.     Thou  wert  acquainted  with  grief     And  may  thev  look  up 
while  their  tears  flow,  into  the  face  of  Him  who  wept,  who  lived' 
who  suffered,  who  died  for  them  and  for  their  consolation. 


212  HKMii-    WARD    BKKCHKK. 

"  Grant  Thy  blessing  to  those  who  are  suffering  the  bafflings  and 
trials  of  poverty,  in  straitened  circumstances.  Lord,  are  they  poorer 
than  Thou  wert,  who  hadst  not  where  to  lay  Thy  head  ?  Yet  so  fai 
as  is  consistent  with  their  good,  alleviate  their  trouble.  Raise  them 
up  friends,  and  comforts  of  Hfe. 

"  Bless  all  those  that  are  tried  in  their  worldly  aff'airs ;  who,  in 
whatever  way  they  turn,  find  fears  prevailing.  Will  the  Lord  be 
gi-acious  unto  them,  that  they  may  not  think  their  Hfe  consisteth  in 
the  abundance  of  the  things  which  they  possess.  May  they  feel 
that  the  things  of  this  life,  and  all  the  troubles  that  harass  it, 
quickly  pass  away  ;  and  may  they  also  feel  that  they  are  not  in  any 
wise  ruined  or  overturned.  May  they  lay  up  their  treasure  where 
no  misfortune  may  ever  assail.  May  they  believe  in  Him  who  is  rich 
beyond  all  bankruptcy ! 

"  We  beseech  of  Thee  that  Thou  wilt  be  very  near  to  all  that  are 
in  doubt  of  mind,  and  are  perplexed  in  their  thoughts  and  beliel 
of  things  religious.  Do  Thou  teach  them  the  greatest  of  all  truth — 
how  to  love  God,  and  how  to  diff'use  it  upon  men.  And  may  they 
at  last  find  encouragament  in  this,  that  Thou  art  their  God. 

"We  beseech  of  Thee  that  to  all  those  who  are  in  the  trust  of  this 
life's  prosperities,  who  are  surrounded  with  friends  and  comforts,  and 
who  have  been  blest  abundantly,  Thou  wilt  grant  humility,  that 
they  may  not  become  proud,  or  hard  and  unfeeling  towards  those 
who  are  less  successful  and  skilful  than  they ;  and  by  so  much  as 
they  are  above  them,  may  they  see  to  it,  not  only  that  they  use 
their  goods  for  the  benefit  of  the  world,  but  hearts  and  minds  for 
the  benefit  of  their  fellow-men. 

"  Be  near  to  strangers  in  our  midst,  whose  hearts  yearn  for  those 
who  have  been  wont  to  worship  with  them.  Will  the  Lord  bring 
them  by  faith  very  near.  And  as  they  meet  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross,  may  they  consciously  be  united  to  all  who  love  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  whom  they  love. 

"  Diff'use  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel  over  all  the  earth.  May  sla- 
very cease  ;  may  war  cease  ;  may  intemperance  cease  ;  may  justice 
reign,  and  love  upon  justice ;  and  may  the  whole  earth  be  filled 
with  the  glory  of  God  !     We  ask  it  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen." 


WILIIAM   R.   WILLIAMS, 

THE   BAPTIST   PREACHER. 


Ther©  is  one  body,  and  one  Spirit,  one  Lord,  one  Faith,  one  Baptism, 
one  God  and  Father  of  all." 


*MoRE  than  twenty  years  ago,  we  remember  reading,  in  the 
American  Baptist  Magazine,  a  biographical  sketch  of  Rev.  John 
Williams,  who  had  removed  to  this  country  from  Wales,  and  was 
for  many  years  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Church  in  Oliver-street,  New 
York.  The  article  arrested  our  attention  by  the  purity  and  grace 
of  its  style,  and  the  brilliancy  of  its  tone,  and  we  felt  that  we  were 
in  contact  with  a  mind  on  which  God  had  set  the  unmistakable  im- 
press of  genius.  It  was  written,  we  learned,  by  Mr.  William  R. 
WilHams,  then  a  lawyer,  recently  admitted  to  the  New  York  bar, 
and  was  a  tribute  of  fihal  piety  to  the  virtues  of  a  beloved  and 
justly  honored  parent.  We  hope  that  this  memoir  may  yet  grace 
some  future  edition  of  the  Miscellanies.  Not  far  from  this  time,  at 
the  call  of  his  brethren,  and  under  the  irresistible  convictions  of  his 
own  sou],  Mr.  Williams  exchanged  his  profession  of  law  for  the  min- 
istry of  the  Gospel,  and  entered  upon  that  work  in  connection  with 
the  same  Church  that  has  ever  since  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  his 
ministrations.  From  that  time,  by  the  singular  purity  and  excel- 
lence of  his  personal  character,  by  the  depth  and  fervor  of  his  piety, 
by  the  rich  exuberance  of  his  varied  talents,  by  the  wide  range  of 
his  reading  and  erudition,  he  has  steadily  advanced  to  an  eminent 

*  For  this  valuable  sketch  of  the  character  and  style  of  Dr.  Williams,  we 
are  indebted  to  Professor  A.  C.  Kendrick,  D.  D.,  of  Rochester. 


214  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

and  honored  place  in  the  rehgious  body  to  which  he  is  attached, 
and  has  taken  an  undisputed  rank  among  the  first  preachers  and  re- 
hgious writers  of  the  age.  He  has  attained  a  reputation  in  which 
every  Baptist  may  feel  a  just  pride,  as  an  additional  evidence  that 
Baptist  principles  are  not,  as  some  have  supposed,  necessarily  con- 
nected, either  in  their  origin  or  tendency,  with  ignorance  and  dul- 
ness. 

Indeed,  the  literary  fortunes  of  the  Baptist  denomination  have 
been  not  a  little  remarkable.  Its  eminently  scriptural  and  simple 
church  polity,  its  unswerving  adherence  to  the  New  Testament  or- 
dinances, its  uniform  assertion  of  the  doctrine  of  religious  freedom, 
have  often  coexisted  with  a  degree  of  humbleness  and  illiterateness 
on  the  part  of  its  members,  which  naturally  excited  the  contempt  of 
those  influential  sects  that  filled  the  places  of  worldly  power,  and 
presided  over  the  institutions  and  means  of  education.  Yet,  while 
the  great  mass  of  its  adherents  have  been  plain  and  unlearned,  it 
has  produced  a  few  names  of  the  very  first  distinction,  and  suffi- 
cient of  themselves  to  redeem  it  from  the  reproach  of  intellectual 
barrenness.  We  pass  over  the  name  of  Milton,  who,  though  a 
Baptist  in  the  peculiar  doctrines  which  separate  Baptists  from  other 
evangelical  communions,  dissented  from  them  all  in  some  important 
tenets  of  scriptural  faith.  "VVe  pass  over,  too,  a  multitude  of  lesser, 
but  highly  respected  names  in  the  literary  annals  of  our  denomi- 
nation. We  point  now  only  to  the  names  of  Bunyan,  Fuller,  Hall, 
Foster,  Wayland,  and  Williams,  as  a  constellation  of  genius,  learn- 
ing, and  piety,  which  sheds  a  brilliant  lustre  on  our  denominational 
history.  To  distinguish  and  characterize  the  separate  stars  in  this 
constellation — to  portray  at  length  the  features  of  these  eminent 
men — is  a  task  beyond  our  powers,  as  it  is  aside  from  our  present 
purpose.  Bunyan,  unfurnished  with  the  lore  of  the  schools,  but 
profoundly  taught  in  the  mysteries  of  faith ;  homely  in  style,  but 
pouring  forth  from  a  warm  heart  and  a  fervid  imagination  a  torrent 
of  pure,  racy,  masculine  English  ;  and  by  the  suff'rage,  not  only  of 
the  greatest  literary  critic  of  our  day,  but  of  the  whole  common- 
wealth of  letters,  taking  his  place  alongside  of  the  author  of 
Paradise  Lost,  as  one  of  the  "two  great  creative"    minds  of  the 


PRESIDENT    WAYLAND.  215 

latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  : — Fuller,  as  great  in  the  de- 
velopment of  doctrinal,  as  Bunyan  was  of  experimental  Christianity; 
wholly  unambitious  of  rhetorical  embellishment,  almost  insensible 
to  the  mere  pleasures  of  taste,  but  master  of  a  style  simple,  per- 
spicuous, and  dignified,  and  perfectly  adapted  to  the  weighty  and 
profound  truths  of  which  it  was  always  the  vehicle  : — Hall,  splen- 
did, graceful,  and  majestic,  with  a  large  and  various  erudition,  and 
a  thorough  intellectual  training ;  master  alike  of  the  sternest  weap- 
ons of  logic,  and  "  the  dazzling  fence  of  rhetoric ;"  in  style,  com- 
bining the  sweetness  of  Addison  with  the  subHmity  of  Burke ; 
moving  with  easy  and  colossal  tread  through  the  highest  regions  of 
thought,  and  only  prevented  by  a  taste,  delicate  even  to  fastidious- 
ness, from  rising  continually  to  the  very  loftiest  heights  of  imagina- 
tive eloquence  : — Foster,  rugged,  gloomy,  and  original ;  always 
"  putting  a  new  face  upon  things ;"  always  diving  down  to  the 
depths,  and  laying  bare  the  inmost  anatomy  of  man's  moral  nature  ; 
utterly  regardless  of  the  mere  melodies  of  style,  but  expressing 
himself  with  the  most  admirable  precision,  and  clothing  his 
thoughts  in  words  and  images  of  such  picturesqueness  and  beauty, 
and  in  sentences  of  such  clumsy  construction,  that  Hall  happily 
characterized  them  as  "  lumbering  wagons,  loaded  with  gold  :" — 
Wayland,  the  expounder  of  the  principles  of  Moral  Obligation,  and 
of  the  Science  of  Christianity ;  clear,  exact,  and  searching  in  analy- 
sis ;  penetrating  to  the  very  heart  of  his  subject,  and  enunciating  its 
ultimate  principles  in  a  style  of  transparent  clearness  and  classical 
purity  and  elegance,  and  not  unfrequently  rising  to  strains  of  elo- 
quence, which  show  us 

"  How  sweet  an  Ovid  was  in  Murray  lost ;" 

how  splendid  an  imagination  has  been  reined  in,  and  controlled  by 
a  severely  chastised  taste,  and  a  predominating  habit  of  metaphysi- 
cal analysis  : — and  finally,  Williams,  sweeping  along  in  a  strain,  of 
which  we  scarcely  know  which  most  to  admire,  the  fertility  and 
vigor  of  the  thought,  or  the  wealth  of  the  illustration  and  beauty 
of  the  imagery.  These  are  names  which  represent  a  treasure,  in- 
tellectually and  morally,  of  extraordinary  value ;  a  contribution  to 


216  WILLIAM    E.    WILLIAMS. 

the  literature  of  oiir  denomination  and  our  language  which  we  can- 
not contemplate  without  pleasure  and  pride. 

The  works  of  these  men  should  be  on  the  shelves  of  every  intel- 
ligent Baptist.  He  will  find  them  a  library  in  themselves,  guiding 
him  into  almost  every  department  and  domain  of  religious  thought. 
We  are  aware  that,  in  the  case  of  Hall  and  Foster,  the  benefit  of  the 
perusal,  owing  to  their  peculiar  mental  constitution  and  circum- 
stances, is  not  without  some  drawbacks  to  ordinary  minds.  Nei- 
ther was  eminent  as  a  theologian.  Hall,  conscious  of  splendid  abili- 
ties, only  came  gradually  into  a  full  recognition,  and  under  the 
complete  sway  of  the  doctrines  of  grace,  and  on  the  subject  of  com- 
munion his  works  advocate  vievrs  at  variance  with  the  prevailing 
Baptist  usages  in  this  country.  Foster  was,  in  temperament,  satur- 
nine and  gloomy  ;  remote  in  his  habitual  subjects  of  thought  from 
the  ordinary  range  of  Christian  experience,  and  on  that  of  future 
punishment,  alloAving  himself,  trembhngly,  indeed,  in  a  latitude  of 
speculation,  which,  consistently  carried  out,  would  go  far  to  sap  the 
foundations  of  evangehcal  faith.  Still,  these  views  by  no  means 
pervade  his  writings  ;  and  after  making  all  allowance  for  whatever 
was  peculiar  in  the  talents  and  temperament  of  these  extraordinary 
men,  we  repeat  the  expression  of  our  wish,  that  the  writings,  so  far 
as  accessible,  of  all  these  lights  of  the  Church,  may  be  found  on  the 
shelves,  and  often  in  the  hands,  of  every  one  who  owns  the  Baptist 
name.  They  are  at  present,  we  believe,  read  more  extensively  with- 
out the  pale  of  our  denomination  than  within  it.  We  would  not 
narrow  the  circle  of  their  influence  ;  we  would  rather  enlarge  it,  by 
bringing  them  into  closer  familiarity  with  those  who  are  the  more 
immediate  heirs  of  their  treasures  of  pious  thought  and  consecrated 
eloquence. 

Of  the  noble  list  above  enumerated,  four  sleep  with  the  sainted 
and  honored  dead.  Bunyan  finished  his  testimony  amidst  the 
stormy  times  of  the  EngUsh  Revolution.  Fuller  died  in  1815,  after 
a  life  of  surpassing  activity  and  usefulness.  Hall,  just  twenty  years 
ago,  exchanged  a  life  of  almost  perpetual  agony  for  the  rest  of 
heaven ;  and  only  very  recently  his  friend,  Foster,  has  gone  down  to 
the  tomb  full  of  honors  and  of  years.     Wayland  and  Williams  are 


PRESIDENT    WAYLAND.  217 

among  us  in  the  vigor  and  maturity  of  their  powers,  ornaments  and 
pillars  of  our  American  Zion.  We  shall  incur  no  charge  of  exagger- 
ation in  placing  their  names  alongside  of  those  of  the  illustrious 
dead.  Their  writings,  comparatively  limited  in  quantity,  are  of  a 
value  which  stamps  them  as  classics  in  the  language.  They  are 
living — they  are  among  us — they  are  our  own ;  and  we  must  be 
permitted  for  a  few  moments  longer  to  hold  their  names  in  juxtapo- 
sition. In  the  cast  and  structure  of  their  minds  they  are,  indeed, 
widely  different.  Dr.  Wayland,  although  an  accomplished  scholar, 
makes,  we  presume,  no  pretention  to  the  almost  unlimited  range  of 
erudition  which  characterizes  his  younger  contemporary.  Dr.  Wil- 
liams, although  a  vigorous  and  original  thinker,  would  readily  yield 
the  palm  to  Dr.  Wayland  in  respect  to  the  power  and  habits  of  close 
logical  reasoning  and  analysis.  Dr.  Wayland  is  a  sound  scholar, 
and  a  distinguished  thinker ;  Dr.  Williams  is  a  sound  thinker,  and  a 
distinguished  scholar.  Dr.  Wayland  illustrates  but  sparingly  from 
history,  but  always  with  great  propriety  and  effect ;  Dr.  Williams 
almost  overwhelms  us  with  the  affluence  of  his  historical  illustrations. 
In  Dr.  Wayland,  the  metaphysical  element  predominates  over  the 
rhetorical ;  in  Dr.  Williams,  the  rhetorical  and  imaginative  are  more 
conspicuous  than  the  metaphysical.  Dr.  Wayland  seeks  to  present 
truth  in  its  most  abstract  and  general  expression ;  Dr.  Williams  to 
embody  it  in  some  striking  incident  or  image.  The  style  of  the  two 
is  as  widely  diverse  as  their  modes  of  thinking.  That  of  Dr.  Way- 
land  has  the  advantage  in  perspicuity,  simplicity,  and  classical  finish 
and  elegance ;  that  of  Dr.  Williams  excels  in  the  abundance  with 
which  it  pours  fourth  beautiful  thought  and  imageiy,  careless  of 
graces,  and  yet  perpetually  snatching  graces  beyond  the  reach  of  art. 
A  page  of  Dr.  Wayland  is  an  English  landscape,  chastened  by  taste- 
ful cultivation  into  severe  beauty  and  regulated  fertility ;  a  page  of 
Dr.  Williams  is  an  American  forest — a  wilderness  of  untamed  mag- 
nificence and  beauty.  Dr.  Wayland  reminds  us  of  a  Grecian  tem- 
ple, wrought  of  the  most  precious  materials  into  the  most  perfect 
symmetry  and  proportion;  Dr.  Williams,  of  a  Gothic  cathedral, 
gorgeous  in  its  manifold  decorations,  resounding  with  organ  melo- 
dies, and  clustering  with  the  solemn  associations  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


OlS  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

Both  are  for  from  being  mere  men  of  the  closet.  Both  are  "  men 
of  thought  and  men  of  action ;"  men  of  ready  practical,  as  well  as 
of  profound  theoretical  wisdom.  Both  have  not  only  plenty  of  bul- 
lion duo-  out  from  the  mines  of  thought,  and  stored  up  in  the  capa- 
cious chambers  of  their  intellects,  but  (what  many  great  men  have 
not)  plenty  of  change  for  the  ordinary  currency  of  life.  Both  have 
a  constant  and  keen  eye  upon  the  great  moral  and  political  changes 
which  are  going  forward  in  society ;  and  whtle,  on  the  whole,  de- 
cidedly conserv^ative  in  their  principles,  have  a  warm  and  deep  sym- 
pathy with  eveiy  movement  which  tends  to  the  world's  disenthral- 
ment  and  elevation.  Both  exert  a  powerful  influence  in  our  reli- 
gious organizations  and  deliberative  assemblies.  The  noble  and  ma- 
jestic form  of  Dr.  Wayland  enforces  the  sentiments  of  wisdom  which 
he  so  eloquently  utters ;  the  slender  frame  and  shrinking  modesty  of 
Dr.  Williams  lend  an  indescribable  charm  to  the  rich  melodies  of 
thought  and  speech  that  tremble  from  his  tongue,  and  seem  to  gush 
in  a  resistless  torrent  from  his  soul. 

From  the  pens  of  both,  the  American  Church  has  yet  much  to 
hope  and  to  expect.  We  should  regard  it  as  a  great  calamity  to  the 
cause  of  letters  and  religion,  should  either  lay  aside  his  pen  before 
gi\ang  us  many  more  of  the  fruits  of  his  large  experience  and  ma- 
tured powers.  Dr.  Williams  is  understood  to  be  accumulating  ma- 
terials for  a  work,  to  which  the  wishes  of  his  brethren  have  long 
destined  him — the  preparation  of  a  history  of  the  Church,  in  special 
connection  with  that  of  his  own  denomination.  May  God  spare  his 
life  to  bring  the  work  to  a  happy  completion !  Dr.  Wayland  has 
published  the  biography  of  that  apostle  of  Modern  Missions,  the  late 
Dr.  Judson.  No  more  appropriate  designation  could  have  been 
made.  It  was  fitting  that  such  a  Christian  scholar  should  commem- 
orate the  deeds  of  such  a  Christian  hero ;  that  he  whose  sermon  on 
the  Moral  Dignity  of  the  Missionary  Enterprise,  thrilled  and  fired,  in 
the  infancy  of  that  enterprise,  the  heart  of  the  Church  universal,  and 
did  more  than  any  other  single  cause  to  enthrone  it  in  the  respect  and 
admiration  of  the  civilized  world,  should  record  the  achievements,  and 
delineate  the  character,  of  him  in  whom,  of  all  modern  men,  the  sub- 
limity of  the  missionary  principle  has  been  the  most  perfectly  embodied. 


SENTENTIOUS    ENERGY.  219 

But  it  is  time  to  turn  to  tlie  more  immediate  subject  of  our  present 
paper.  It  is  matter  of  just  congratulation  to  the  public,  that  Dr. 
Williams  has  at  length  come  forward  with  a  more  formal  claim 
upon  its  attention,  than  in  the  occasional  single  discourses  which  he 
had  previously  pubhshed.  We  rejoice  that  he  has  taken  his  place 
distinctly  in  the  field  of  religious  authorship.  Such  as  have  had  the 
privilege  of  sharing  his  private  intercourse,  and  of  listening  to  him 
in  meetings  of  business  and  debate,  have  known  that  the  productions 
of  his  pen,  the  noble  discourses  which  he  has  laid  before  the  public, 
were  little  more  than  specimens  of  the  habitual  products  of  his  mind. 
We  have  heard  him  on  topics  that  sprung  up  casually  in  the  turn 
of  a  debate,  where  all  previous  preparation  was  precluded,  give  utter- 
ance, on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to  an  argument  as  complete  and 
compact,  couched  in  language  as  finished  and  graceful,  and  at  once 
adorned  and  enforced  by  as  ample  a  fund  of  illustration,  as  are,  per- 
haps, to  be  met  even  in  his  more  elaborate  discourses. 

Indeed,  nothing  in  Dr.  Williams  is  more  striking  than  his  uniform 
and  complete  command  of  his  powers ;  the  promptness  and  dexterity 
with  which  he  marshals,  and,  with  the  speed  of  hght,  concentrates 
his  intellectual  resources.  It  seems  as  if  that  capacious  memory  had 
gathered  every  fact  in  the  wide  domain  of  art  and  science,  and  more 
especially  of  sacred,  civil,  and  literary  history,  and  held  them  all  in 
perfect  subordination,  ready  in  an  instant  to  accumulate  their  whole 
force  on  the  point  to  be  defended  or  assailed.  Dr.  Wilhams's  mind 
has  no  every-day  and  Sunday  dress.  He  is  not,  like  Goldsmith, 
common-place  in  conversation,  but  brilliant  with  the  pen.  He  is 
rather  like  Goldsmith's  celebrated  and  gigantic  contemporary,  John- 
son, whose  ordinary  conversation  conveyed  lessons  of  not  inferior 
wisdom,  and  couched  in  language  of  purer  and  more  nervous  elo- 
quence, than  his  writings.  In  Johnson,  and  probably  in  Robert 
Hall,  the  advantage  in  sententious  energy  was  on  the  side  of  their 
extemporaneous  efibrts.  The  mind  of  neither  was  sufficiently  simple 
and  self-oblivious  to  be  entirely  natural,  when  consciously  approach- 
ing the  great  tribunal  of  the  pubhc.  Williams  is  Williams  every- 
where. His  intellect  is  too  active  and  rapid  not  to  do  itself  justice 
on  the  most  ordinary  occasions  ;  while  he  is  too  thoroughly  absorbed 


220  ^VlLLIAil    R.    WILLIAMS. 

in  his  subject  to  let  the  fear  of  criticism  influence  his  more  elaborate 
performances.  We  have  no  great  respect  for  Boswell.  Macaulay 
tells  us  that  it  was  not  merely  in  spite,  but  because  of  his  being  one 
of  the  most  despicable  men  that  ever  lived,  that  he  produced  one  of 
the  best  biographies  that  were  ever  written.  But  we  almost  -wish 
Dr.  Williams  could  be  Boswellized.  There  are  few  men,  we  think, 
the  every-day  effusions  of  whose  intellect  would  yield  so  rich  a  ban- 
quet of  wisdom. 

Were  we  to  attempt  an  analysis  of  Dr.  Williams's  characteristics 
as  a  writer,  we  should  assign  the  first  place  to  the  eminent  spiritu- 
ality and  devotion  evinced  in  his  works ;  not  merely  to  their  uniform 
recognition  o^  but  their  thorough  baptism  in,  the  great  truths  of 
evangelical  religion.  The  Gospel,  as  a  scheme  for  man's  redemption 
and  a  code  of  human  duty,  reigns  supreme  in  his  affections,  and  he 
bows  to  the  sway  of  its  truths  his  whole  intellectual  and  moral 
natiu-e.  Few  writers  bring  out  in  greater  richness,  the  glorious  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel ;  and  fewer  still  unfold  so  fully  their  bearing  on 
all  the  duties,  relations,  and  interests  of  men.  Dr.  Williams  is  a 
theologian;  but  we  think  not  strictly  a  metaphysical  theologian. 
He  holds,  we  doubt  not,  a  clearly-defined  and  well-adjusted  system 
of  Scripture  doctrines,  and  is  well  read  in  the  theology  of  our  own 
and  of  former  times.  But  the  form  under  which  he  loves  to  con- 
template divine  truth,  is  not  that  of  a  system  of  abstract  dogmas, 
bound  together  by  logical  affinities,  but  of  practical  principles,  per- 
vading the  affairs,  and  controlling  the  destinies  of  men ;  the  pivots 
around  which  human  society  revolves ;  the  grand  nervous  network 
distributed  through  the  entire  social  body,  and  bringing  it  into  vital 
contact  with  the  Supreme  and  Infinite  Mind.  In  the  light  of  reh- 
gious  truth,  he  contemplates  all  the  facts  of  human  history  and 
human  fife ;  and  with  great  freedom  and  justness  brings  religious 
principles  to  bear  on  every  department  of  human  action.  In  all  the 
changes  of  society,  he  sees  but  the  evidences  of  a  God  honored  or 
disobeyed ;  of  moral  principle  heeded  or  trampled  under  foot. 

Another  feature  of  Dr.  Williams's  writings  is  the  extensive  reading 
and  erudition  which  they  display.  His  varied  and  universal  know- 
ledge, like  the  gold  of  California,  crops  out  at  every  point,  and  forces 


AFFLL'ENCE    OF    ILLUSTKA'^nON.  221 

itself  foilli  in  an  unfailing  opulence  of  illustration  and  imagery. 
There  is,  indeed,  no  parade  of  learning.  Although  a  scholar  from 
the  cradle,  and  thoroughly  versed  both  in  the  original  languages  of 
Scripture  and  in  the  languages  and  literature  of  Modern  Europe,  yet 
he  rarely  puts  himself  before  the  public  in  the  attitude,  or  with  the 
pretensions,  of  a  scholar.  Yet  every  page  teems  with  the  evidences 
of  a  richly-stored  mind ;  of  a  mind  that  has  gathered  its  treasures 
not  merely  in  the  ordinary  and  beaten  walks  of  knowledge,  but  in 
reo-ions  which  only  few  minds  enter,  and  still  fewer  thoroughly 
explore.  Dr.  WilHams's  acquaintance  wdth  history — a  study  of 
which  he  seems  peculiarly  fond — is  equally  comprehensive  and  pro- 
found. To  adopt  his  own  striking  figure,  he  is  equally  ready  to  do 
battle  with  the  enemy  at  the  gates,  and  to  shift  his  ground  to  the 
graves  of  the  Fathers  and  the  monuments  of  the  old  past.  We  know 
of  no  religious  writer  of  our  times,  unless  it  be  Isaac  Taylor,  nor  of 
any  secular  writer  except  Macaulay,  who  revels  in  so  rich  a  store  of 
knowledge  respecting  all  the  great  movements  and  aspects  of  the 
church  and  the  world,  both  in  our  own  and  former  times.  The 
most  obscure  and  recondite  epochs  and  sections  of  church  history, 
he  seems  thoroughly  to  have  explored.  The  whole  cycle  of  changes 
through  which  infidel  philosophy  has  passed,  its  scoffing,  its  specu- 
lative, its  scientific,  its  transcendental,  and  its  socialist  aspects — 
with  all  he  seems  equally  familiar,  and  against  all  he  levels  his 
powerful  artillery. 

This  aflSiuence  of  illustration,  especially  of  historical  illustration, 
imparts  to  the  pages  of  Dr.  Williams  a  very  marked  character. 
Names  which  rarely  appear  in  pulpit  discourses,  the  names  of  phi- 
losophers, statesmen,  poets,  infidels,  as  well  as  of  Patriarchs,  Apostles, 
and  Fathers  of  the  Church,  are  of  constant  recurrence  in  his  writings. 
In  this,  we  think,  he  judges  wisely.  There  is,  we  believe,  a  prevail- 
ing prejudice  in  our  churches  against  the  introduction,  to  any  con- 
siderable extent,  of  names  and  incidents  from  secular  history ;  and 
some  clergymen  systematically  confine  all  their  historical  references 
within  the  limits  of  the  Sacred  Narratives.  Whatever  may  be  the 
origin  of  this  prejudice,  we  are  convinced  that  it  is  a  prejudice,  and 
that  our  educated  preachers  would  add  to  the  freshness  and  interest 


222  WILLIAM    R.    WILLIAMS. 

of  their  discourses  by  bringing  them  into  contact  at  a  larger  number 
of  points  with  human  life,  and  especially  by  widening  their  range  of 
historical  illustration.  We  grant  that  no  uninspired  narrative  can 
rival,  in  importance  and  interest,  those  of  the  Sacred  record.  Wo 
grant  that  there  is  probably  no  principle  of  truth  and  duty  of  whicli 
they  do  not  somewhere  furnish  an  illustration.  But  so  does  the 
Lord's  Prayer  surpass  in  weight  and  fulness  of  meaning,  any  suppli- 
cation ever  breathed  from  human  lips,  and  enfolds  in  some  one  of  its 
clauses  the  substance  of  every  aspiration  which  the  human  heart  can 
utter  to  its  God.  With  just  as  much  propriety,  therefore,  might  we 
cast  all  our  supphcations  into  the  mould  furnished  by  the  great  Au- 
thor of  prayer,  as  circumscribe  our  lessons  of  instruction  from  the 
Di\nne  Government,  whether  in  or  out  of  the  pulpit,  by  that  narrow, 
though  pregnant  section  of  it  comprised  within  the  Sacred  Narra- 
tives. Take  the  periods  from  which  Dr.  Williams  draws  some  of  his 
most  impressive  illustrations :  The  Epoch  of  the  Protestant  Reforma- 
tion ;  the  period  of  English  history  which  witnessed  the  conflict  be- 
tween the  stern  piety  of  the  Puritan,  and  the  brilliant  profligacy  of 
the  Cavalier ;  the  age  of  riotous  infidelity,  which  found  its  culmina- 
ting point  and  fitting  climax  in  the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution. 
These  periods  approach  near  to  our  own  day.  They  fostered  princi- 
ples and  originated  states  of  society,  of  which  we  yet  feel  the  influ- 
ence. And  shall  not  the  teacher  of  religion  be  permitted  to  single 
out  from  these  and  other  periods,  such  striking  examples  as  may, 
either  by  conformity  or  contrast,  enforce  the  great  truths  which  he 
dehvers?  Studying  the  Lord's  Prayer,  teaches  us  how  to  pray. 
Studying  the  history  of  the  Bible,  teaches  us  how  to  read  all  his- 
tory ;  furnishes  the  key  with  which  we  are  to  unlock  its  secrets ; 
the  light  in  which  we  are  to  decipher  and  interpret  the  otherwise 
inexplicable  hieroglyphics — the  Menes  and  Tekels — the  words  of  fate 
and  doom  which  the  finger  of  God's  providence  inscribes  on  the 
palace-walls  of  empires. 

We  are  aware  of  the  necessary  conditions  of  our  recommendation. 
He  who  would  illustrate  from  history,  must  know  history,  and  that 
not  superficially,  but  thoroughly.  If  ministers  made  themselves  at 
home  in  any  branch  or  section  of  histoiy,  they  could  not  refrain 


ORIGINALITY.  223 

from  allusions  to  it  on  befitting  occasions.  Here  is  one  of  the 
strong  points  of  Dr.  Williams :  he  has  studied  the  chronicles  of  for- 
mer times,  until  he  lives  in  the  past,  as  other  men  live  in  the  present. 
He  has  hut  to  start  an  idea,  and  names  and  facts  come  clustering 
round  it  to  bring  it  within  the  recognized  sphere  of  human  expe- 
rience, to  give  it  at  once  life  and  confirmation.  He  has  read  history, 
not  only  deeply,  but  in  the  devout  spirit  of  a  Christian.  With  him, 
practically  as  well  as  theoretically,  the  God  of  Nature,  of  Providence, 
and  of  Revelation,  is  one  God ;  and  wherever  he  sees  the  footprints 
of  that  Glorious  Being — wherever  he  sees  a  blessing  following  obe- 
dience to  Him,  and  disobedience  linked  to  its  inevitable  curse,  he 
does  not  hesitate  to  seize  and  hold  up  the  lesson. 

But  wide  as  has  been  Dr.  Williams's  reading,  large  as  is  his  stock 
of  erudition,  it  has  not  overlaid  and  smothered  his  powers  of  original 
and  independent  thinking.  His  writings  display  everywhere  an  in- 
tellect equally  active  and  vigorous ;  a  mind  that  makes  its  own  ob- 
servations, that  draws  its  own  conclusions,  and  uses  its  large  stores 
of  information,  not  as  substitutes,  but  materials  for  thought.  His 
mind  never  rests  upon  the  surface  of  his  facts,  but  pierces  below  to 
the  principle  which  they  embody ;  and  it  is  in  illustration  of  that 
principle  that  they  marshal  themselves  on  his  page.  We  will  not- 
say  that  his  historical  facts  do  not  sometimes  mislead  him ;  that  an 
illustration  does  not  sometimes  impose  itself  upon  him  as  an  argu- 
ment ;  and  that  sometimes  his  mind  does  not  seem  to  be  overbur- 
dened by  his  multifarious  acquisitions.  It  would  be  strange,  indeed, 
if  such  were  not  the  case.  Yet  rarely,  we  think,  is  learning  so 
various  accompanied  by  original  powers  of  so  high  an  order.  Rarely 
are  large  treasures  of  intellectual  wealth  so  little  oppressive  to  their 
possessor.  Rarely  is  an  intellectual  armor  so  heavy  and  complete, 
adjusted  so  perfectly  to  its  wearer,  and  borne  and  wielded  with  so 
much  ease. 

But  along  with  a  large  fund  of  knowledge  and  powers  of  think- 
ing of  a  high  order.  Dr.  Williams's  writings  evince  an  uncommonly 
brilliant  and  fervid  imagination.  This  fuses  and  blends  into  har- 
mony all  his  powers  and  acquisitions,  imparts  to  his  pages,  ever, 
fresh  life  and  interest,  and  causes  them  to  teem  with  the  most  strik- 


22i  WILLIAM    R.    WILLIAMS. 

in?  and  beautiful  imagery.  Indeed,  Dr.  Williams  thinks  in  meta- 
phor ;  his  figm-es  are  not  after-thoughts,  superinduced  upon  his 
stylo  of  illustration  or  embellishment ;  they  are  wrought  into  the 
very  texture  of  his  thought ;  they  are  the  forai,  the  body,  which  it 
naturally  and  almost  necessarily  assumes.  We  must  be  permitted 
to  string  together  a  few  of  those  pearls  of  imagery  with  which  his 
writino^  abound.  We  take  them  almost  at  random.  In  the  Mis- 
cellanies (p.  6),  he  says  of  Literature,  that  "  it  is  the  Nilometer  on 
whose  graded  scale  we  read  not  merely  the  height  to  which  the 
rushing  stream  of  the  nation's  intellect  has  risen,  or  the  degree  to 
which  it  has  sunk,  but  also  the  character  and  extent  of  the  harvests 
yet  to  be  reaped  in  coming  months  along  the  w^hole  course  of  these 
waters." 

The  following,  from  Religious  Progress  (p.  48),  is  a  beautiful  speci- 
men at  once  of  historical  illustration  and  bold  metaphor.  The  "  roll- 
call  of  the  dead"  is  a  conception  which  belongs  to  the  noblest  class 
of  imagery : 

"  Those  who  have  attained,  are  honored,  and  presented  as  patterns 
and  incentives  for  the  emulation  of  those  who  come  after.  '  Being 
dead,  they  yet  speak.'  It  was  a  touching  memorial  to  their  com- 
rade, the  warrior  of  Breton  birth.  La  Tour  d'Auvergne,  the  first 
grenadier  of  France,  as  he  was  called,  when  after  his  death,  his 
comrades  insisted  that,  though  dead,  his  name  should  not  be  re- 
moved from  the  rolls :  it  was  still  regularly  called,  and  one  of  the 
survivors  as  regularly  answered  for  the  departed  soldier :  '  Dead  on 
the  field.'  The  eleventh  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  is 
such  roll-call  of  the  dead.  It  is  the  register  of  a  regiment,  which 
will  not  allow  death  to  blot  names  from  its  page,  but  records  the 
soldiers  who  have,  in  its  ranks,  won  honorable  graves  and  long- 
abiding  victories." — P.  48. 

"  As  Geology  scratches  the  rind  of  our  globe,  some  are  hoping  to 
dig  up  and  fling  out  before  the  nations  a  contradiction  to  the  oracles 
of  the  earth's  Creator ;  and  to  find  a  birth-mark  on  the  creature  that 
shall  impeach  the  truth  of  its  Maker's  registers  as  to  its  age  and 
history."— P.  21. 

"  Faith  does  not  assume  to  dissect  away  the  Divine  Justice  from 


BEAUTIES    OF    STYLE.  225 

the  Divine  Mercy.  It  was  a  fraudulent  claimant  to  tlie  sacred  title 
of  mother,  who  at  the  throne  of  Solomon,  asked  the  division  of  the 
living  child.  And  it  is  but  a  spurious  faith,  and  a  forged  Christianity, 
that  would  hew  apart,  at  the  foot  of  the  Mercy-seat,  the  living  Christ, 
and  taking  His  grace,  leave  His  holiness." — P.  47. 

"  Man  has  capacities  and  aspirations  that  the  earthly,  the  perisha- 
ble, the  finite,  and  the  sinful  can  never  satisfy.  In  tenderness  to  our 
race,  God  commands  them  to  seek  in  Himself,  in  the  knowledge  of 
His  nature  and  will,  and  in  communion  with  Him,  those  enjoyments 
that  nauo-ht  lower  and  less  than  Himself  can  furnish.     We  can 

o 

easily  conceive,  in  the  lower  orders  of  creation,  how  unhappy  it 
were  that  a  being  of  higher  endowments  and  long  duration,  should 
be  decreed  to  mate  with,  and  hang  upon  one  of  much  inferior  nature 
and  of  shorter  date  than  itself.  If,  for  instance,  the  aloe,  the 
plant  of  centuries,  were  fated  to  be  the  appendage  and  parasite  of  the 
ephemeron,  the  insect  of  a  day,  it  would  be  doomed  virtually  to 
early  and  lonely  widowhood  by  the  untimely  decay  of  its  idol,  and 
the  perfect  inadequacy  and  early  rottenness  of  its  appointed  prop. 
The  soul,  with  its  unrenounceable  immortality,  and  its  infinite  as- 
pirations, is  such  plant  of  the  long  centuries,  an  aloe  of  the  eternities 
beyond  this  world.  Did  God  permit  man  to  accept  as  supreme 
standard,  and  object,  and  end,  aught  finite,  mortal,  and  imperfect,  it 
would  be  mating  this.  His  creature,  to  inevitable  disappointment  and 
boundless  misery." — P.  51. 

The  style  of  Dr.  Williams  is  in  harmony  with  the  above  charac- 
teristics ;  it  is  always  racy,  vigorous,  and  eloquent,  with  a  certain 
quaintness  and  tinge  of  the  antique,  in  which  we  discern  the  writer's 
familiarity  with  the  authors  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Not  that 
it  bears  any  marks  of  formal  imitation ;  its  beauties,  and  they  are 
great,  and  its  faults,  which  are  not  wanting,  are  all  his  own.  There 
is  nothing  stereotyped,  nothing  common-place ;  his  mind  shakes 
itself  fi'ee  from  all  conventional  superficialities,  strikes  into  the  heart 
of  the  subject,  and  as  it  pursues  its  unbeaten  way,  turns  up  per- 
petually new  and  striking  beauties  of  diction  and  imagery.  Of  our 
author  it  may  be  emphatically  said,  "  nil  quod  tetigit  non  ornavit,^'' — 

15 


226  -WILLIAM    11.    "WILLIAMS. 

he  adorns  whatever  he  teaches.  The  most  common-place  theme 
opens  into  richness  beneath  his  handling ;  the  most  common-place 
thought  starts  into  beauty  beneath  the  magic  of  his  pen.  His  style 
has  great  breadth,  variety,  and  power.  In  the  richness  and  warmtli 
of  its  coloring — in  the  fulness  and  loftiness  of  its  march — in  its  oc- 
casional irregularities  and  negligence  of  the  minor  graces  of  expres- 
sion, it  reminds  us  of  Chalmers,  between  whose  mind  and  that  of 
Dr.  Williams  there  are  some  strong  points  of  analogy.  His  words 
are  felicitously  chosen,  or  rather,  they  hardly  seem  to  be  chosen  at 
all,  but  gusli  spontaneously  forth  as  the  natural  and  appropriate 
embodiment  of  the  thought.  They  have  great  freedom  and  fresh- 
ness, and  in  their  imaginative  and  picturesque  character,  they  remind 
us  of  the  quality  which  Macaulay  ascribes  to  Milton,  and  whicli  is 
also  eminently  characteristic  of  Foster.  They  are  charmed  words. 
They  suggest  to  the  imagination  more  than  they  convey  directly  to 
the  intellect.  They  open  far-reaching  \nstas,  through  which  the 
mind  looks  out  on  either  side  of  that  luminous  track  along  which 
the  author  is  conducting  it. 

The  faults  of  Dr.  "Williams's  style  are  closely  allied  to  his  excel- 
lences. It  would  probably  be  objected  to  as  too  ornate,  too  prolific 
of  imagery.  His  mind  is  a  tropical  region,  in  which  fruits  and  flow- 
ers of  extraordinary  beauty  are  poured  forth  even  in  rank  luxuriance. 
The  mind  of  the  reader  sometimes  asks  the  repose  of  a  diction  more 
simple  and  severe.  Such,  however,  is  the  constitution  of  Dr.  Wil- 
liams's mind :  he  could  not  change  it  if  he  would ;  and  we  neither 
expect  nor  wish  that  he  should  make  the  attempt.  Had  Burke  or 
Chalmers  been  asked  to  rein  in,  and  bring  down  to  a  somewhat 
juster  level,  their  sweeping  and  majestic  march  of  diction,  and  to 
chasten  into  perfect  taste  their  exuberant  and  gorgeous  imagery, 
they  would  probably  have  disregarded  the  requirement ;  or,  in  at- 
tempting compliance,  would  have  sacrificed  far  higher  excellences 
than  they  would  have  gained.  Many  spots  that  dim  their  lustre 
would  have  been  removed,  but  the  lustre  itself  would  have  gone 
with  them.  We  should  have  had  abundance  of  correctness,  but  we 
should  not  have  had  Burke  and  Chalmers.  Style  is  inseparably  al- 
lied to  thought — it  is  the  image  and  expression  of  the  writer's  mind  ; 


CRITICISMS.  227 

and  to  ask  any  radical  change  in  it,  is  to  ask  a  radical  revolution  in 

liis  modes  of  thinking. 

^    What  we  would  ask  from  Dr.  Williams  is,  a  more  frequent  "  turn- 
ing of  the  style,    a  greater  severity  in  the  Work  of  revision.     Let  him 
wnte  with  fm-y,"  but  correct  with  somewhat  more  of  "phlegm  " 
Subjects  so  important  as  those  which   he  discusses,  thoughts  so 
weighty  as  those  which  he  utters,  are  worthy  of  being  put  forth  in 
the  very  best  form  which  he  can  bestow  upon  them.     Some  of  his 
productions  bear  the  marks  of  haste;  the  structure  of  the  sentences 
IS  not  unfrequently  negligent  and  ungraceful-sometimes  obscure- 
and  sometimes  clogged  by  repetitions.     A  sentence  is  not  unfre- 
quently drawn  out  by  the  addition  of  clauses,  which  would  much 
better  form  a  new  and  independent  construction.     AVe  mi,.ht  give 
many  examples  of  these  blemishes,  especially  from  the  Discourses  on 
Religious  Progress,  but  we  think  it  unnecessary.     We  will  merely  cite 
one  or  two  from  his  works  indiscriminately.     On  the  first  page  of  the 
Miscellanies  we  have  the  sentence:    "You  know  how  the  physical 
condition  of  a  people  may  remain  unchanged,  whilst  the  moral  condi- 
tion of  a  people  is  deteriorating  rapidly  and  fatally."     The  repetition 
of     of  a  people,"  here  strikes  us  as  ungraceful.     So  in  the  sentence 
but  one  immediately  preceding :  "Acting  on  the  homes  of  a  land- 
it  must  send  out  its  waters-over  the  length  and  breadth  of  our 
goodly  land;    the  construction  is  certainly  wanting  in  unity  and 
compactness.     On  page  38  of  "Religious  Progress,"  the  sentence 
commencing,  "Kay,  in  your  own  hearts,"  furnishes  an  instance  of 
Hasty  and  even  inaccurate  construction.     Constructions,  like  the  fol- 
lowing, occasionally  occurring,  we  cannot  approve:  "Till  the  Sab 
bath  was  stript  of  its  legitimate  honors,  of  its  sanctities  not  only,  but 
of  Its  decencies  even."     The  phrase,  "far  as,"  for  "as  far  as"  ap- 
pears  frequently  in  these  pages.     It  is  admissible  in  poetry,  but  in 
prose  IS  inelegant,  except  in  the  sense  of  "however  far,"  which  is 
not  our  author's  mode  of  using  it.     Our  author  is  also  unmerciful  in 
his  use  of  the  conjunction  "  and,"  in  an  enumeration  of  particulars  as 
A,  and  B,  and  C.     We  need  hardly  say,  that  in  respect  to  this  thU 
are  three  classes  of  constructions:    first,  the  asyndeton,  or  entire 
omission  of  the  connecting  particle;  second,  its  omission  between  all 


228  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

the  terms  of  the  series,  except  the  two  last ;  and,  finally,  its  insertion 
between  them  all.  The  second  of  these  is  the  ordinary  construction. 
The  first  is  favorable  to  condensed  energy,  and  is  in  frequent  use  with 
Demosthenes.  The  last  is  occasionally  proper  for  rhetorical  amplifi- 
cation, or  for  detaining  the  members  of  the  series  under  the  mind  of 
the  reader.  Dr.  Williams's  use  of  it  is  sometimes  very  striking ;  but 
he  employs  it,  on  the  whole,  so  constantly  and  indiscriminately,  as 
frequently  to  encumber  his  sentences,  and  deprive  the  figiu'e  of  nearly 
all  its  legitimate  effect. 

One  more,  of  these  little  matters,  and  we  dismiss  them.  The 
style  of  Dr.  WiUiams  is  highly  figurative,  and  often  has  a  tinge  of 
the  poetic.  To  this  we  make  no  objection ;  it  is  the  secret,  doubt- 
less, of  much  of  its  fascination.  We  might,  indeed,  express  our  sur- 
prise that  a  mind  so  poetically  constituted,  so  fertile  in  poetic  diction 
and  imagery,  should  so  rarely  give  to  its  thoughts  the  garb  of  poeti- 
cal quotation.  We  scarcely  remember  to  have  met  half  a  dozen  cita- 
tions from  the  poets  in  the  whole  range  of  his  works,  hardly  more 
than  are  to  be  found  in  the  single  discourse  on  the  Moral  Dignity  of 
the  Missionary  Enterprise.  How  much  poetical  taste  and  feeling  Dr. 
AVilliams  may  have  smothered  beneath  the  heavy  tomes  of  patristic 
and  Jesuitical  lore,  we  do  not  know ;  but  we  rather  think  that  Burns 
and  Shakspeare  are  more  frequently  in  the  hands  of  the  metaphysi- 
cal President  than  of  the  imaginative  Divine.  We  merely  glance  at 
the  fact  as  a  Httle  curious ;  as  showing  how  qualities,  apparently  un- 
congenial, are  often  found  united ;  how  the  flowers  of  poesy  (whose 
presiding  genius  is  imagination)  may  sometimes  leave  a  soil  teeming 
with  the  luxuriance  of  a  fervid  fancy,  to  shed  their  sweets  and  blos- 
soms over  the  colder  regions  of  metaphysics.  But  this  was  not  the 
point  of  our  present  remark.  AVe  were  going  merely  to  object  to 
his  frequent  use  of  certain  words,  which  we  believe  are  ordinarily  in- 
terdicted to  the  writer  of  prose,  and  claimed  as  the  peculiar  heritage 
of  the  poets.  Among  these  are  "  oft,"  for  "  often ;"  "  ere,"  for  "  be- 
fore ;"  and,  in  most  cases,  "  aught"  and  "  naught,"  for  "  any  thing" 
and  "  nothing."  Dr.  Williams  would  not  use  the  poetic  "  morn"  and 
"  eve,"  for  "  morning"  and  "  evening ;"  and,  to  us,  the  words  above 
cited  seem  but  little  better.     We  think  the  substitution  of  the  cus- 


229 

tomary  prose  forms,  in  these  and  kindred  cases,  would  give  to  liis 
style  more  manliness  and  dignity. 

But  we  will  have  done  with  this  minute  criticism.  We  are  sure 
Dr.  Williams  will  not  regard  it  as  unkindly  meant.  The  faults 
which  we  speak  of  here,  spring  partly  from  haste,  partly  from 
too  great  an  indifference  to  mere  matters  of  language,  and  partly, 
we  think,  from  the  character  of  the  author's  studies,  which  have 
often  led  him  into  regions  remote  from  the  walks  of  elegant  literature, 
fields  on  which  the  dews  of  Castaly  have  never  been  distilled.  These 
blemishes  affect  mainly  the  embroidery,  not  the  substance  of  his 
style.  They  are  such  as,  with  his  nice  ear  and  delicate  appreciation 
of  the  beautiful,  a  little  attention  would  easily  remove,  leaving  his 
works  the  gainer  far  more  than  in  proportion  to  the  labor  expended. 
W^ere  his  writings  of  less  intrinsic  excellence,  we  should  feel  less 
solicitude  on  this  point ;  but  they  are  destined  to  become,  or  rather 
already  have  taken  their  place  among  our  religious  classics,  and  will 
convey  their  lessons  of  theoretical  and  practical  godliness  to  increas- 
ing thousands  in  coming  generations.  In  proportion,  then,  to  their 
intrinsic  value,  and  the  extent  and  elevation  of  the  sphere  which 
they  are  destined  to  fill,  is  our  desire  that  they  should  be  freed  from 
every  thing  that  may  impair  their  beauty,  or  hinder  their  usefulness. 
According  to  the  preciousness  of  the  substance,  we  would  have  the 
perfection  of  the  form.  The  finish  of  the  work  should  correspond 
with  the  richness  of  the  material.  Our  appeal  in  this  matter  is  not 
merely  to  Dr.  Williams's  regard  for  his  literary  reputation :  it  rests  on 
higher  considerations.  Thousands  are  affected  by  beauties  or  faults 
of  composition,  who  never  analyze  their  mental  processes,  and  are 
totally  unable  to  explain  the  cause  of  their  emotions.  A  perspicuous, 
transparent  style,  like  a  pm-e  atmosphere,  revealing  every  object  in 
its  true  form  and  color,  has  a  powerful  effect  alike  on  the  most  cul- 
tivated and  the  most  illiterate — the  latter  will  be  moved,  they  know 
not  why ;  the  former  will  enjoy,  with  added  zest,  those  beauties  of 
thought  and  sentiment,  which  are  enhanced  by  the  graces  of  appro- 
priate and  finished  diction. 

The  principal  work  publisked  by  Dr.  Williams  is  entitled  "  Re- 
ligious Progress,"  discourses  on  the  development  of  the  Christian 


230  -WILLIAM    li.    WILLIAMS. 

character ;  and  consists  of  a  series  of  discourses  founded  on  that  stiik 
incr  passage  of  II.  Peter,  "  And  besides  all  this,  add  to  your  faith, 
virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ;  and  to  knowledge,  temperance ; 
and  to  temperance,  patience ;  and  to  patience,  godliness ;  and  to 
godliness,  brotherly  kindness ;  and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity." 

We  learn  from  the  Dedication  that  the  sermons  were  prepared 
and  pubhshed  at  the  suggestion  of  Rev.  Elisha  Tucker,  of  Chicago ; 
and  in  this,  Dr.  Tucker  has  added  another  to  the  many  obligations  of 
gratitude  under  which  the  Church  has  been  laid  by  a  long,  laborious, 
and  useful  ministry.  The  series  is  introduced  by  a  sermon  founded 
on  the  word  "  add,"  which  discusses  religion  as  a  principle  of 
growth ;  and  this  is  followed  by  a  discourse  upon  each  of  the  graces 
named  in  the  text.  TVe  have  thus  a  beautiful  development  of  the 
subjects  of  faith,  virtue,  knowledge,  temperance,  patience,  godliness, 
brotherly  kindness,  and  charity,  or  love.  The  nature  of  each  grace 
is  explained  ;  its  relation  to  its  sister  graces  as  their  complement  or 
natural  antecedent,  is  skilfully  unfolded ;  and  then  the  importance 
and  claims  of  each,  urged  with  great  fervency  and  power.  The 
work,  as  a  whole,  is  a  noble  tribute  to  the  truth,  efficacy,  and  glory 
of  the  great  principles  of  the  Gospel.  No  Christian  can  read  it 
without  feeling  the  foundations  of  his  religious  faith  strengthened, 
and  fresh  springs  of  religious  joy  and  consolation  opened ;  and  no 
unbeliever  can  read  it  without  a  secret  conviction,  that  here  is  a 
philosophy  infinitely  transcending  the  highest  wisdom  of  earth ;  a 
philosophy  that  goes  to  the  deepest  springs  of  human  character,  and 
furnishes  the  true  key  to  human  destiny.  It  is  a  timely  work.  It 
proceeds  from  a  mind  which  is  penetrated  with  the  glorious  truths 
of  the  Gospel,  and  reflects,  like  an  immense  mirror,  the  manifold  as- 
pects of  the  age,  notes  the  various  phases  of  religious  error  and  un- 
belief, and  shows  how  they  all  "  lose  discountenanced,  and  like  folly 
show,"  by  the  side  of  the  divine  wisdom  of  the  Bible. 

We  wish  we  had  time  for  an  analysis  of  some  of  these  discourses, 
and  a  discussion  of  their  separate  peculiarities.  We  have  been 
struck  by  the  great  freedom  and  variety  of  structure  which  they 
exhibit.  There  is  no  stereotype  form  into  which  they  are  all  cast, 
but  each  has  its  own  outline  and  analysis,  according  to  the  exigen- 


TRE    ]\[ISSIONARY    AGE.  231 

cies  of  its  particular  theme.  The  first  .discourse  treats  of  "  Religion 
as  a  Principle  of  Growth."  The  author  here  first  discusses  those 
religious  and  secular  features  of  the  age,  which  require  that  the 
progressive  energy  of  Christianity  be  now  especially  heeded ;  and 
then  alike  from  the  general  provisions  of  the  Gospel  for  human 
sanctification,  and  from  the  pecuhar  phraseology  of  the  text,  he  il- 
lustrates and  enforces  his  position.  Under  the  first  general  head  he 
considers  the  age  in  its  rehgious  aspects  :  1.  As  an  age  of  Missions  ; 

2.  As  an  age  of  Revivals ;  3.  As  an  age  of  Historical  Research ; 
and  again,  in  its  secular  aspects,  as  an  age,  1.  Of  rapid  and  eager 
discovery  in  the  Physical  Sciences ;    2.  Of  Political  Revolutions ; 

3.  Of  Social  Reform.  In  this  catalogue  of  the  leading  features  of 
the  age,  the  reflecting  reader  will  be  struck  with  the  justness,  and, 
we  may  add,  the  completeness  of  the  inventory.  The  treatment  of 
all  these  topics  is  able ;  and  of  some,  strikingly  so.  We  cannot 
forbear  to  emich  our  article  v^dth  the  following,  on  the  present  as  a 
Missionary  age : 

"  The  Church,  we  said,  needs  in  this  age  to  be  kept  in  mind  of 
the  great  truth,  that  there  remains  yet  much  land  to  be  possessed  ; 
not  only  as  the  common  heritage  of  the  faithful,  but  as  the  personal 
allotment  and  homestead,  so  to  speak,  of  each  one  of  the  faithful. 
The  churches,  rediscovering  a  long  neglected  duty,  are  now  attempt- 
ing to  evangelize  the  heathen.  It  is  an  age  of  missions.  The  isl- 
ands of  the  Pacific  have  heard  the  cry,  after  the  lapse  of  eighteen 
centuries,  that  our  earth  has  been  honored  and  blessed  by  the  com- 
ing of  a  Divine  Redeemer.  China  has  shuddered  to  see  the  long 
dominion  of  her  Confucius  and  her  Boodh  invaded  by  the  Gospel 
of  Jesus  the  Nazarene.  The  Shasters  of  Brahminism  find  their  sa- 
cred Sanscrit  tongue  employed,  by  the  dihgence  and  fidelity  of  mis- 
sionary translators,  to  utter  the  oracles  of  that  One  Ti-ue  God,  who 
will  banish  from  under  the  heavens  which  they  have  not  made,  and 
which  He  has  made,  all  the  hundred  thousand  gods  of  the  Hindoo 
Pantheon,  with  all  the  other  idols  of  the  nations,  however  ancient 
and  however  popular.  The  tinglings  of  a  new  life  from  on  high 
seem,  along  the  coasts  of  Asia  an-d  of  Africa,  shooting  into  nations 
that  Paganism  held  for  ages  senseless  and  palsied.     Is  not  Ethiopia 


232  WILLIAM    R.    WILLIAMS. 

soon  to  be,  as  the  prophetic  eye  of  the  Psalmist  long  ages  ago  saw 
her,  stretching  out  her  hands  unto  God  ?  But  whilst  each  Christian 
church,  each  band  of  spiritual  disciples,  in  lands  long  evangelized, 
is  thus  lengthening  the  cords  of  her  tent  to  take  in  the  Gentiles  un- 
der its  broad  canopy,  she  must  in  consequence,  and  as  it  were  in 
counterpoise,  of  the  extension,  strengthen  her  stakes  at  home,  to 
bear  the  increased  tension  and  the  extended  shelter.  Her  supports 
must  be  proportionately  augmented  at  home,  by  a  deepening  piety 
and  a  sturdier  vigor  of  principle  in  her  discipleship,  or  the  work  will 
soon  come  to  a  stand  abroad.  A  sickly  and  bedwarfed  Christianity 
here  will  not  furnish  the  requisite  laborers,  or  the  needful  funds. 
Expansion  without  solidity  will  bring  upon  our  Zion  the  ruin  of  the 
arch  unduly  elongated  and  heavily  overloaded.  Christendom  itself 
must  be  more  thoroughly  Christianized,  before  Heathendom  will  re- 
linquish its  old  character  and  worship,  and  learn  our  creed  and  love 
our  Saviour.  Already  the  zeal  and  heroic  sacrifices  of  some  of  our 
recent  converts  shame,  and  should  stimulate,  the  comparative  world 
liness  and  lukewarmness  of  the  churches  that  had  first  sent  to  them 
the  missionary  and  the  Bible." — P.  16. 

We  also  add  the  paragraph  on  the  scientific  aspects  of  the 
age: 

"  The  world,  falsely  or  with  justice,  is  shouting  its  own  progress, 
and  promising,  in  the  advancement  of  the  masses,  the  moral  devel- 
opment of  the  individual.  It  is  an  age  of  eager  and  rapid  discovery 
in  the  Physical  Sciences.  The  laws  and  uses  of  matter  receive  pro- 
found investigation,  and  each  day  are  practically  applied  with  some 
new  success.  But  some  of  the  philosophers  thus  busied  about  the 
material  world,  seem  to  think  that  the  world  of  mind  is  virtually  a 
nonentity.  As  Geology  scratches  the  rind  of  our  globe,  some  are 
hoping  to  dig  up  and  fling  out  before  the  nations  a  contradiction  to 
the  oracles  of  the  earth's  Creator,  and  to  find  a  birth-mark  on  the 
creature  that  shall  impeach  the  truth  of  its  Maker's  registers  as  to 
its  age  and  history.  Others,  in  the  strides  of  Astronomy,  along  her 
star-paved  way,  hope  to  see  her  travel  beyond  the  eye  of  the  HebrcAv 
Jehovah,  and  bringing  back  from  her  far  journey  a  denial  of  the  word 
that  His  lips  have  uttered.   Yet  Physical  Science  can  certainly  neither 


SCIENTIFIC    ASPEC'I'S    OF    THE    AGE.  233 

create  nor  replace  Moral  Trutli.  The  crucible  of  the  chemist  cannot 
disintegrate  the  human  soul,  or  evaporate  the  Moral  Law.  The 
Decalogue,  and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  Conscience  and  Sin,  the 
superhuman  majesty  and  purity  of  Christ,  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the 
Mercy-seat,  would  remain,  even  if  a  new  Cuvier  and  another  New- 
ton should  arise,  to  carry  far  higher,  and  to  sink  far  deeper,  than  it 
has  ever  yet  done,  the  line  of  human  research ;  and  even  if  these 
new  masters  of  physical  lore  should  blaspheme  where  the  older 
teachers  may  have  adored.  Some  claim  that  Revelation  must  be 
recast,  to  meet  the  advances  in  Natural  Science.  They  overlook  the 
true  limitations  as  to  the  power  and  prerogatives  of  mere  Material 
Knowledge.  And  what  are  the  new  and  loftier  views  of  man's  origin 
and  destiny  which  these  reformers  propose  to  substitute  for  those 
views  which  they  would  abolish  ?  On  the  basis  of  a  few  hardy  gen- 
eralizations upon  imaginary  or  distorted  facts,  and  by  the  aid  of 
some  ingenious  assumptions,  a  system  is  excogitated  that  is  to  strip 
the  race  of  immortality,  conscience,  and  accountabihty,  and  that 
represents  us  as  but  a  development  of  the  ape,  to  be  one  day  su- 
perseded by  some  being  of  yet  nobler  developments  than  our  own, 
and  who  will  have  the  right  to  rule  and  kill  us,  as  we  now  rule  and 
kill  the  beasts  of  the  forest.  And  is  it  thus  that  Philosophy  re- 
forms upon  the  Bible  ?  No — in  the  endeavor  to  outgrow  Revela- 
tion, it  has  but  succeeded  in  outgrowing  reason,  and  brutifying 
humanity.  No — ^let  Science  perfect  yet  more  her  telescopes,  and 
make  taller  her  observatories,  and  deeper  her  mines,  and  more 
searching  her  crucibles  ;  all  will  not  undermine  Jehovah's  throne,  or 
sweep  out  of  the  moral  heavens  the  great  star-like  truths  of  Revela- 
tion, and  least  of  all  the  Son  of  Righteousness.  God's  omniscience 
is  never  to  be  ultimately  brought  down  to,  and  schooled  by,  man's 
nescience,  as  its  last  standard  and  test.  The  last  and  greatest  of 
the  world's  scholars  will,  we  doubt  not,  be  among  the  lowliest  wor- 
shippers, and  the  loudest  heralds  of  the  crucified  Nazarene.  The 
Gospel  is  true — true  intensely,  entirely,  and  eternally  ;  and  all  other 
and  inferior  truth,  as  it  shall  be  more  patiently  and  thoroughly 
evolved,  will  assume  its  due  place  and  proportion,  as  buttressing  and 
exalting  the  great,  per\^ading,  controlling,  incarnate  Truth — Christ 


23:1:  WILLIAM    E.    WILLIAMS. 

the  Maker,  the  Sovereign,  the  Upholder,  and  the  Judge,  no  less  than 
the  Redeemer  of  the  world." 

But  -we  pass  to  the  next  discourse,  which  is  entitled,  "  Faith,  the 
Root  of  the  Christian  Life."  After  a  characteristic  and  appropriate 
introduction,  the  author  inquires:  I.  "What  is  Faith;  II.  Why  it 
has  assigned  (to)  it  this  priority  in  the  Christian  system ;  and  III. 
IIow,  from  the  necessity  of  its  nature,  it  becomes  a  root  of  spiritual 
growth  and  practical  development."  Under  the  first  head,  he  shows 
that  faith  "  is  not  the  mere  hereditary  and  passive  acquiescence  in 
Christianity,  as  the  religion  of  our  countiy  and  of  our  forefathers. 
Xor  is  it  a  reception  into  the  intellect  merely,  apart  from  the  heart, 
of  any  creed,  however  orthodox.  Nor  is  it  a  mere  enthusiastic  per- 
suasion, without  Scriptural  evidence,  and  unsustained  by  the  warrant 
and  witness  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  God  loves  us  personally.  ISTor 
is  it,  as  the  enemies  of  religion  would  persuade  you,  a  blind,  bigoted 
creduhty,  the  creature  and  retainer  of  Priestcraft."  He  goes  on  to 
show  that  the  whole  framework  and  action  of  hmnan  society  are 
based  upon  faith ;  and  adds,  "  The  faith  of  the  Gospel  is  something 
more  than  these,  only  as  being  trust  in  God.  It  is  trust,  as  to  mat- 
ters of  higher  concernment,  and  upon  better  warrant,  and  in  a 
Greater  and  Better  Being.  It  is  a  reliance  on  his  true  testimony." 
"  As  the  great  theme  of  this  dinne  testimony  is  Christ  Jesus,  the 
Incarnation  of  God  for  the  redemption  of  man,  Faith  cannot  truly 
receive  that  testimony  without  believing  on  Christ." 

Of  the  correctness  of  the  statements  made  above,  as  to  faith,  there 
can,  we  presume,  be  no  doubt.  Still,  we  must  be  permitted  to  ques- 
tion, whether  the  author  has  put  the  subject  in  its  happiest  light ; 
whether  he  has  not  subordinated  faith  in  Christ  to  trust  in  God,  in 
a  manner  not  strictly  accordant  with  the  general  tenor  of  the  New 
Testament.  The  statement  of  Dr.  Williams,  if  we  understand  it,  is, 
that  faith  is  trust  in  God ;  and  because  the  great  theme  of  his  testi- 
mony is  Jesus  Christ,  therefore  faith  accepts  or  believes  on  Christ. 
Would  it  not  be  stating  the  faith  of  the  Gospel  more  exactly  to  say, 
that  it  believes  on  Christ,  accepts  his  testimony,  and  beheves  in  God, 
because  it  cannot  receive  the  testimony  of  Christ  without  receiving 
and  confidinij  in  Ilim,  whose  messenirer  and  witness  He  was  ?     The 


CPIEISTIAN    FAITH.  235 

difference  is,  perhaps,  mainly  or  nearly  verbal ;  yet  not,  we  tliink, 
wholly  devoid  of  practical  importance.  Christ,  we  think,  should  be 
presented  distinctly  as  the  centre  and  prime  object  of  gospel  faith ; 
and  we  believe  that  the  same  remark  holds  substantially  of  the  faith 
of  Old  Testament  believers. 

We  have  a  remark  or  two  to  make  on  Dr.  Williams's  treatment 
of  the  second  head.  He  assigns  four  reasons  why  the  priority  should 
be  given  to  faith  in  the  Christian  system :  one  derived  from  man^s 
past  history^  inasmuch  as  sin  originated  in  unbelief;  the  second, 
from  the  nature  respectively  of  God  and  man^  faith  being  essential 
to  our  receiving  the  teachings  of  the  Infinite  mind  on  subjects  which 
our  finite  reason  cannot  grasp ;  a  third,  drawn  from  the  goodness  of 
God^  which  assigns  as  the  initiatory  element  of  the  Christian  life, 
Qot  talents,  not  profound  learning,  but  an  exercise  to  which  the  child 
is  as  competent  as  the  sage ;  and  a  fourth,  from  manh  besetting  sin, 
the  pride,  which  clings  to  him  since  the  fall,  and  makes  it  "  fitting 
that  the  mode  of  his  acceptance  before  God  should  be  one  that 
allowed  no  occasion  for  boasting."  These  reasons  are  all  ingenious, 
striking,  and,  so  far  as  they  go,  just ;  but,  after  all,  are  they  the  real 
reason  why  faith  is  made  to  "  keep  the  gate  of  everlasting  Hfe  ?" 
Has  not  Dr.  Wilhams  passed  over  the  one  true  reason  growing  out 
of  the  nature  and  necessity  of  the  case  ?  If  w^e  understand  him,  we 
suppose  him  to  intimate  that  there  is  something  in  a  degree  arbitrary 
in  the  assignment  of  this  post  to  faith.  It  was  a  matter  of  expedi- 
ency, and  some  other  grace  might  have  been  selected  thus  to  lead 
the  choir  of  Christian  virtues,  and  initiate  us  into  the  Christian  life. 
It  strikes  us  difierently ;  and  we  will,  as  briefly  as  possible,  state  our 
\'iew.  Man  is  a  ruined  sinner,  entirely  unable  to  redeem  himself 
from  the  captivity  of  sin,  or  to  pay  the  penalty  of  the  law  which  he 
has  broken.  Under  these  circumstances  a  Substitute  presents  him- 
self. Jesus  Christ  appears,  and  pays  the  debt  which  the  sinner  has 
incurred ;  submits  to  the  penalty,  and  satisfies  the  demands  of  the 
law.  What  further  is  necessary  ?  Why,  that  a  relation  be  estab- 
lished between  the  Substitute  and  him  on  whose  behalf  he  appears. 
How  is  that  relation  eff'ected  ?  We  answer,  by  the  sinner's  accept- 
ance of  Christ  as  his  ransom  and  deliverer.    He  must  believe  on  Him ; 


236  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

must  trust  in  Him ;  must  first  confide  in  His  ability  and  willingne;?s 
to  perform  the  work  required,  and  then  must  formally  commit,  con- 
fide his  case  into  His  hands.  We  grant  that  every  Christian  grace 
is  in  exercise  in  the  performance  of  this  duty ;  that  love  must  be  in 
action  as  well  as  faith.  But  the  specific /or?^?-  which  this  great  ini- 
tiatory step  in  the  Christian  life  assumes,  seems  to  us  to  be  ne- 
cessaiily  that  of  faith;  and  therefore  the  true  reason  why  God 
assigns  the  post  of  honor  and  priority  to  faith,  is  because  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case  require  it.  We  can  scarcely  doubt  that  this 
is  substantially  the  view  held  by  Dr.  Williams,  and  that  it  is  through 
mere  inadvertence  that  he  has  failed  to  include  it  in  his  represen- 
tation. 

Henceforward  we  go  on  in  entire  harmony  with  our  author. 
From  the  discourse  on  Faith  we  must  present  one  extract,  on  the 
character  of  the  Scriptures,  as  tending  to  expand  and  nourish  this 
grace. 

"  The  growth  set  before  our  faith  appears,  again,  from  the  character 
and  structure  of  Scrij^ture^  the  volume  on  whose  testimonies  faith 
fastens,  and  in  whose  rich  pastures  she  must  ever  feed.  God  might 
have  made  it  a  book  to  be  exhausted  at  one  reading  ;  or  a  record  of 
the  Past,  unavailing  to  the  men  of  the  Present ;  or  a  mysterious 
outline  of  the  Future,  of  little  clearness  or  usefulness  till  the  times 
of  its  fnlfilment  had  come.  Instead  of  this,  it  is  a  book  of  all  times, 
full  of  the  ancient  Past,  and  the  busy  Present,  and  the  dread  or 
gorgeous  Future.  It  has  the  simplest  teachings  interwoven  inextri- 
cably with  its  most  fathomless  mysteries  ;  and  precept,  and  promise, 
and  threatening,  and  history,  and  parable,  and  psalm,  so  grouped 
that  every  tast^  may  be  gratified,  and  none  sated  and  cloyed.  A 
Newton,  sitting  down  to  its  perusal,  finds  it  still  opening  new  depths 
of  wonder  and  glory,  the  more  prolonged  and  devout  are  his  medi- 
tations upon  it.  The  new  convert,  dazzled  over  its  pages  with  the 
ecstasy  of  his  new-found  hope,  yet  cannot  as  deeply  and  ardently 
love  and  value  it  as  he  will  do  when,  a  gray-headed  patriarch,  years 
after,  he  turns  afresh  its  wondrous  leaves,  to  adore  the  ever-full  fresh- 
ness of  its  lessons,  and  to  remember  all  the  lights  it  has  cast  upon 
his  weary  pathway.     It  is  the  book,  not  of  an  academic  lustrum 


DISCOUESE   ON   VIKTUE.  237 

only,  nor  of  a  lifetime,  but  of  generations.  As  centuries  have  rolled 
on,  this  august  volume  has  notched  on  their  calendar  new  fulfilments 
of  its  prophecies,  new  illustrations  of  its  truthfulness,  and  new  evi- 
dences that  its  authorship  could  come  from  none  other  than  the 
Former  of  the  worlds,  and  the  Ruler  of  all  centuries.  Now,  when 
Faith  is  presented  with  such  a  manual,  not  to  be  mastered  in  weeks 
or  years,  but  still  evolving  new  lights  to  the  latest  studies  of  the 
longest  lifetime,  does  not  the  character  and  structure  of  the  book 
proclaim  the  intent  of  God,  that  Faith  should  not  sit  down  content 
with  present  attainments,  and  its  as  yet  immature  strength  ?" 

The  next  discourse  is  on  virtue.  "  Add  to  your  faith  virtue^  The 
author  here  justly  and  beautifully  defines  the  character  of  virtue, 
which  he  calls  "  the  human  and  terrestrial  side  of  true  piety."  He 
distinguishes  it  from  holiness,  which  includes  virtue,  as  a  part  in- 
cludes the  whole.  Virtue,  on  the  contrary,  does  not  include  holiness, 
although  in  its  higher  and  genuine  sense  it  presupposes  it,  and  is  in- 
separable from  it. 

But  it  is  time  for  us  to  bring  our  article  to  a  close.  We  have 
only  given  our  readers  a  glimpse  or  two  of  the  riches  of  this  book. 
It  is  full  of  important  lessons  in  practical  godliness.  It  is  rich  in  its 
illustration  of  the  relations  of  piety  to  all  the  great  problems  and 
movements  of  society,  to  the  manifold  relations  and  duties  of  practi- 
cal life.  We  believe  it  will  be  eminently  useful  in  banishing  the 
skepticism  and  the  w^orldliness,  which  are  too  prevalent  in  the 
Church,  in  instructing  Christians  in  the  great  duties  and  glorious 
prerogatives  of  their  profession,  and  stimulating  them  to  higher 
attainments  in  godhness.  The  style  may  be  less  finished,  and  there 
may  be  greater  marks  of  haste,  than  in  the  author's  previous 
occasional  productions ;  but  it  is  such  a  work  as  only  genius,  learn- 
ing, and  piety,  combined  in  an  eminent  degree,  could  produce.  We 
earnestly  commend  it  to  the  careful  reading  and  study  of  every  de- 
vout mind. 

To  the  preceding  article  by  Professor  Kendrick  we  add  such  bio- 
graphical items  as  Dr.  Williams's  life,  unusually  barren  of  external 
incident,  affords. 


23S  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

He  was  born  in  New  York  city,  October  14tb,  1804.  Here  he 
attended  school ;  here  he  passed  the  four  years  of  college-life,  hav- 
ing been  graduated  at  Columbia  College,  when  he  was  eighteen 
years  of  age  ;  here  he  studied  law  three  years,  in  the  office  of  Mi. 
Jay ;  here  he  spent  one  year  in  the  practice  of  law  in  the  same 
office ;  and  here  he  has  spent  his  ministerial  hfe,  having  been  in 
stalled  pastor  of  the  Amity-street  Church,  at  the  time  of  its  forma- 
tion, in  1831. 

His  prospects  in  law  were  unusually  flattering,  and  the  profession 
was  relinquished  from  a  devout  consecration  to  a  nobler  work.  The 
discriminating  and  distinguished  John  Jay  once  replied  to  a  friend 
■who  casually  remarked,  "  I  understand  that  you  have  in  your  office 
a  rather  smart  son  of  a  Baptist  minister :" — "  My  friend,  there  is 
not  now,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  a  lawyer  of  profounder  talent 
than  this  young  Williams."  His  intellect  is  peculiarly  fitted  foi- 
success  in  law.  It  lays  hold  of  strong  subjects,  and  subdues,  man- 
ages, handles  them,  however  ungovernable  they  may  have  beeii 
when  approached  by  other  men.  His  mind  penetrates  into  the  ab- 
struse recesses  of  dark,  sombre,  mystic  lore,  and  drags  forth  into 
daylight  the  treasure  buried  there.  He  has  the  power,  also,  ct 
straightening  entangled  questions.  He  finds  the  right  end  of  the 
thread,  loosens  and  unties  the  knots,  and  lays  it  out  to  the  view 
of  humbler  intellects,  with  a  clearness  which  charms  and  an  ease 
which  astonishes.  We  recall  the  main  points  of  an  incident  which 
occurred  in  New  York  some  years  ago,  strikingly  illustrative  of  this. 
Between  one  of  the  insurance  companies  and  some  private  individ- 
uals there  was  a  certain  matter  of  litigation  of  peculiar  difficulty, 
and  involving,  we  understand,  about  thii'ty  thousand  dollars.  One 
of  the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court,  on  being  informed  of  the  facts 
in  the  case,  advised  that  it  be  decided  by  arbitration,  saying  that  it  was 
one  of  peculiar  complexity,  and  would  require  much  research  and  con- 
tinued application  to  solve  it.  The  advice  was  adopted,  and  three 
of  the  best  men  of  the  city  selected.  One  of  the  three  happened  to 
know  Dr.  Williams,  and  of  his  felicity  in  the  solution  of  difficult 
problems.  He  went  to  him,  stated  the  conviction  of  his  own 
incompetence  to  discover  the  right  of  the  case,  laid  before  him  the 


PUBLICATIONS.  239 

documents,  and  requested,  as  a  personal  favor,  tliat  Dr.  Williams 
would  examine  them.  He  declined,  in  liis  usually  quiet  but  deci- 
sive manner,  on  tlie  ground  that  lie  was  no  longer  a  lawyer,  that  lie 
had  forgotten  what  he  once  knew  of  law,  and  that  his  courses  of 
thought  were  in  totally  different  directions.  But  the  arbitrator 
pressed  his  suit,  and  finally,  in  a  state  of  desperation,  left  the  papers, 
in  the  faint  hope  of  an  ultimate  relenting  on  the  part  of  the  divine. 
After  he  was  gone,  Dr.  Williams  commenced  the  examination  of  the 
papers  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  and  very  naturally  made  certain 
minutes  as  he  read  them.  In  a  day  or  two  the  friend  called  again 
to  renew  the  request.  It  was  already  granted.  Those  memoranda 
revealed  to  the  delighted  man  the  truth  of  the  case  clear  as  sun- 
light, and  those  very  notes  of  Dr.  Williams  formed  the  sole  basis 
of  the  decision. 

His  habits  have  been  remarkably  studious  and  retiring  from  very 
infancy.  When  his  schoolmates  were  at  play,  he  would  be  found, 
crouched  in  some  hidden  corner,  absorbed  in  a  book.  His  man- 
ners have  the  quiet  delicacy  which  are  in  harmony  with  such  a  life ; 
and  yet  his  conversation,  when  unconstrained,  abounds  in  anecdote, 
humor,  illustration,  quotation,  description,  and,  indeed,  in  all  the  va- 
riety of  gifts  which  go  to  produce  the  fascination  of  fireside-talk. 
In  sarcasm,  also,  he  has  unusual  power,  but  holds  it  under  stern  re- 
straint. 

Dr.  Williams  has  published  less  than  he  ought.  Besides  the 
work  entitled  "  Religious  Progress,"  already  discussed,  he  has  pub- 
lished "  Lectures  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  of  great  value  for  its  unc- 
tion, religious  power,  and  adaptation  to  the  wants  of  the  Christian 
heart ;  a  volume   of  "  Miscellanies,"  consisting  of  discourses  and 


From  the  Preface  to  "  Lectures  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  we  make 
a  brief  extract : 

"  How  much  of  the  stern  virtue  that  shone  serenely  over  the 
troubled  strifes  of  the  Commonwealth  and  Protectorate,  and  over 
the  shameless  profligacy  and  general  debasement  of  the  restored  Stu- 
arts, came  from  the  earnest  study  of  that  Prayer,  only  the  Last  Day 
can  adequately  show.     We  can  see,  from  the  space  it  occupies  in 


240  WILLIAM    K.    WILLIAMS. 

Hale's  volume,  what  sliare  the  supplication  had  in  his  habitual  and 
most  sacred  recollections.  We  seem  to  recognize, — in  his  earnest, 
importunate  deprecation  of  the  sins  from  which  society  held  him  sin- 
gularly free,  and  in  his  urgent  and  minute  supplications  for  all  grace 
and  for  those  especial  excellences,  in  which  his  age  and  land  pro- 
nounced him  to  have  most  eminently  attained, — the  secret  of  his 
immunity  and  his  virtue.  Is  it  fanciful  or  credulous  to  infer  that, 
directly  or  indirectly, — in  his  own  acquaintance  personally  with  the 
work,  or  in  his  inherited  admiration  of  the  author's  character, — our 
Washington  derived  his  kindred  excellences  from  Hale ;  and  that 
healing  virtue  thus  streamed  from  the  robes  of  the  Saviour  on  the 
Mount,  as  He  enunciated  this  form  of  supplication — streamed  across 
wide  oceans,  and  intervening  centuries,  into  the  heart  and  character 
and  influence  of  him  whom  our  people  delight  to  hail  as  the  Father 
of  his  Country  ? 

"  No  human  analysis  can  disintegi-ate  from  the  virtue  and  free- 
dom and  prosperity  of  modern  Christendom,  the  proportion  and 
amount  of  it,  which  is  distinctly  owing  to  the  influence  of  this  single 
supplication. 

"  With  these  views  of  the  past  and  coming  influence  of  this  Di- 
vine composition,  each  Christian  teacher  may  be  allowed,  again  and 
again,  to  recall  the  attention  of  his  flock  to  such  a  fountain,  whose 
streams  have  this  power  from  God  of  perpetual  vitality,  and  roll 
forth  through  each  tract  of  time,  their  all-healing  and  ever-freshening 
waters, — one  source  of  that  river  which  '  maketh  glad  the  city  of 
God.' " 

His  modesty  has  resisted  most  of  the  solicitations  which  have 
been  made  for  a  wider  circulation  of  his  sermons  and  essays.  A 
little  incident  wiirillustrate  this.  At  a  certain  meeting  of  an  as- 
sociation of  Baptist  ministers,  who  gathered  at  intervals  for  mu- 
tual improvement  and  criticism,  Dr.  Williams  was  appointed  to 
bring  in  an  essay  upon  Theological  Instruction,  or  the  true  method 
of  Theological  Seminaries.  At  the  succeeding  meeting  the  chair- 
man alluded  to  the  appointment,  by  remarking  that  upon  such 
a  difiicult  subject  he  presumed  Dr.  Williams  had  not  as  yet  been 
able  to  prepare  any  thing,  but  he  would  like  to  know  the  pros- 


DELIVERY.  24:1 

pects  of  an  essay  at  some  future  time.  Dr.  Williams  replied  by 
di'awing  out  of  his  pocket  some  scraps  of  paper,  saying,  that 
having  had  a  little  leisure,  more  than  he  would  have  for  some 
weeks,  he  had  improved  it  by  putting  down  a  few  imperfeqft 
thoughts,  which,  however,  might  be  of  some  service  as  a  nucleus  for 
further  discussion.  He  commenced  reading,  and  read  on.  The  in- 
terest of  his  audience,  quickly  awakened,  grew  to  admiration ;  and 
when  he  had  finished,  words  seemed  inadequate  to  express  their 
delight.  Those  scraps  of  paper  he  put  into  his  pocket  again,  and 
never,  to  this  day,  have  his  brethren  been  able,  by  any  argument,  to 
persuade  him  to  publish  them  to  the  world. 

In  delivery.  Dr.  Williams  moves  his  body  but  little,  and  rarely 
gestures.  When  he  does  throw  out  his  arm,  it  seems  to  have  been 
an  act  of  self  forgetfulness,  which  he  would  gladly  recall.  This  con- 
finement of  manner  is  doubtless,  in  some  degree,  consequent  upon 
near-sightedness.  He  frequently  bows  his  head  closely  to  his  notes 
while  speaking. 

His  voice  is  low  and  gentle,  with  but  little  volume.  His  vocal  or- 
gans are  constrained,  and  feeble  in  their  action.  There  is  a  certain 
peculiarity  of  pronunciation,  united  to  a  sad  monotone  of  inflection, 
which  strikes  the  stranger  unpleasantly,  as  having  the  unfortunate 
appearance  of  afiectation.  That  this  manner  is  not  based  on  the 
simpHcity  of  naturalness  is  manifest,  and  hence  it  is  in  one  sense 
afiected.  But  that  it  is  not  affected  in  the  sense  in  which  the  word 
is  popularly  employed — to  imply  vanity  or  conceit — we  are  confi- 
dent, since  any  thing  of  the  kind  is  so  utterly  at  variance  with  his 
character.  It  may  have  been  acquired  in  childhood,  and  chargeable 
to  a  careless  teacher ;  but  it  is  at  the  best  a  fault,  and  one  so  essen- 
tially interwoven  with  his  delivery  as  to  forbid  all  hope  of  its  remo- 
val. It  may  be  an  affectation  of  manner  induced  by  diffidence,  for 
he  is  strangely  diflBdent  for  one  who  has  been  throughout  his  life  a 
public  man.  There  is  sometimes  an  excess  of  modesty  which  dwarfs 
influence,  and  an  excess  of  sensitiveness  which  engenders  groundless 
distrust.  In  this  trait  of  character  we  detect  the  reason  why  the 
fame  of  Dr.  Williams  is  not  proportioned  to  his  talents.  He  shuns 
promiscuous  public  gatherings,  and  is  rarely,  if  ever,  seen  on  the 

16 


242  WILLIAM    R.    WILLIAMS. 

platform  at  anniversaries.  But  while  he  never  appears  as  the  promi 
nent  controller  of  public  bodies  of  men,  his  influence  is  never  unfelt, 
and  his  counsel  never  goes  unsought.  In  cases  of  difficulty  or  of 
peril,  he  is  demanded  as  the  pilot.  He  must  be  placed  on  important 
committees,  and  he  must  draw  np  difficult  reports.  It  is  at  times 
like  these,  when  a  quick  apprehension,  an  intuitive  judgment,  and  a 
dispatch  in  execution  are  demanded,  that  Dr.  Williams  is  called 
upon  to  act.  Then  he  evidences  his  power  of  concentration  and  of 
abstraction.     His  reports  and  his  digests  are  unsurpassed. 

Dr.  Wilhams's  interest  in  the  education  of  the  young  is  a  happy 
characteristic.  Ever  since  his  entrance  upon  ministerial  duties,  he 
has  met  with  a  class  of  children  on  Saturday,  for  religious  instruc- 
tion. Thus  has  he  had  several  generations  under  his  special  care, 
and  his  pupils,  as  they  pass  from  beneath  the  influence  of  their  loved 
pastor,  ever  retain  the  liveliest  impressions  of  the  truths  he  had  made 
radiant  to  their  view,  and  an  abiding  regard  for  one,  the  faithfulness 
of  whose  teachings  was  only  surpassed  by  the  winning  gentleness  of 
their  presentation.  The  following  extract  manifests  the  earnestness 
with  which  he  regards  the  young  : 

"  Thus,  too,  will  you  bless  your  children,  as  your  fathers  have  ben- 
efited many  of  you.  I  see  around  me  some  whose  fathers  and 
mothers,  wont  here  to  worship  the  God  of  Jacob,  are  gone  to  be 
now  with  the  patriarch  and  with  the  patriarch's  God.  Perhaps, 
their  prayers  and  tears  for  you  through  weary  years  seemed  fruitless ; 
and  they  went  down  to  their  graves  ere  you,  their  children,  were  con- 
verted. But  within  the  veil  they  have  heard  it— they  have  heard  it. 
It  swept  new  melody  from  their  harps ;  and  to  their  vision,  it  threw 
new  glories  around  the  throne.  So  labor  for  your  children ;  even 
if,  like  your  parents,  you  leave  those  children  at  your  death  yet  unre- 
newed, to  muse  on  the  heritage  of  a  father's  prayers,  and  the  coun- 
sels and  tears  of  a  mother  ascended  to  the  God  of  her  salvation. 
And  if  here  there  be,  as  I  fear  there  are,  the  prayerless  children  of 
praying  parents,  who  once  besought  God  within  these  walls  that 
you,  their  Ishmaels,  might  live,  be  persuaded,  my  friends,  to  take  u]) 
the  work  of  prayer,  which  a  departed  parent  cannot  continue >. 
Joshua  said  of  the  stones  reared  on  the  margin  of  Jordan,  which 


EXTEMPORE.  243 

had  heard  the  vows  of  Israel,  that  those  stones  would  witness  against 
them,  if  they  forsook  God.  And  so  say  I  to  you :  the  very  ground 
beneath  your  feet,  where  your  Christian  kindred  so  often  remembered 
you,  it  shall  witness  against  you  if  you  persevere  in  neglecting 
Christ.  The  walls,  bared  and  blackened  with  fire,  that  once  stood 
here,  and  that  were  levelled  in  the  dust,  they  are,  methinks,  yet 
standing  before  God :  and  all  over  they  are  covered  with  inscriptions 
which  record  how  often  you  were  warned,  how  often  the  secret  tear 
here  trickled  for  your  impenitence,  and  the  prayer  went  up — '  God 
of  mercy,  have  mercy  on  my  unbelieving  child.' " 

He  extemporizes  to  a  great  extent,  and  is  never  unable  to  extem- 
porize. Such  is  his  familiarity  with  language,  that  he  does  not  fail 
to  express  readily  and  gracefully  the  thought  within  him.  We 
may  with  safety  say,  that  his  best  sermons  have  never  been  written. 
We  may  liken  him  to  Dr.  Tyng  in  the  power  of  Extempore,  of  whose 
remarkable  gift  in  this  department  of  eloquence  we  have  yet  to 
speak.  But  in  manner,  lie  difiers  greatly  from  Dr.  Tyng.  The  pre- 
cision of  pronunciation,  the  downright  emphasis,  the  apparent  con- 
sciousness of  power  characteristic  of  this  distinguished  platform  ora- 
tor, he  has  not.  But  there  is  more  simplicity,  more  quiet  ease,  more 
unconscious  grace,  in  the  manner  of  Dr.  Williams,  while  there  is  less 
effort,  less  prominence,  less  boldness.  At  his  "  Tuesday  evening  lec- 
tures" it  is  that  his  genius  in  extemporaneous  speaking  soars  on  the 
strongest  pinion,  and  takes  the  highest  flight.  There,  in  the  com- 
parative seclusion  of  the  lecture-room,  surrounded  by  a  small  circle 
of  disciples,  he  makes  his  most  pungent  appeals,  and  pours  forth  his 
freest  eloquence  with  the  freshness  of  a  first  enthusiasm.  We  knew 
an  Episcopal  clergyman  of  New  York,  one  who  sedulously  and  suc- 
cessfully employs  the  best  means  for  improvement  in  public  speak- 
ing, who,  at  one  time,  was  regularly  attending  Dr.  Williams's  Tues- 
day evening  lectures,  as  affording  the  best  opportunity  for  his  own 
cultivation.  * 

Whoever  has  heard  Dr.  Williams  in  his  pulpit  ministrations  has 
been  impressed  with  the  spirituality  of  his  preaching.  He  seems 
thoroughly  imbued  with  the  truths  he  utters  ;  and  he  proclaims  his 
divine  message,  not  as  something  he  has  read  about  or  heard  about, 


24A:  WILLIAM    R.    WILLIAMS. 

but  as  something  he  has  himself  felt  and  loved.  His  words  are  the 
breathings  of  his  own  lips,  the  outpourings  of  his  own  heart.  They 
are  pervaded  with  a  seriousness  which  arises  from  a  rare  appreciation 
of  the  infinite  value  of  the  glorious  Gospel.  Christ  is  the  great 
theme  of  his  preaching,  and  the  glowing  centre  of  his  thoughts. 

Dr.  Williams  has  visited  Europe  three  times :  ha\ing  spent  about 
a  year  abroad  before  leaving  the  legal  profession,  at  the  close  of  the 
one  year's  practice  in  ^Ir.  Jay's  office ;  a  few  months,  in  addition,  after 
he  became  a  pastor;  and  the  summer  of  1853,  for  the  restoration 
of  health.     He  has  not  been  graduated  at  a  Theological  Seminary. 

Various  efforts  have  been  made  to  entice  him  from  his  beloved 
people,  and  place  him  at  the  head  of  some  literary  institution,  or  as 
professor  in  some  department  of  theology ;  positions  which  his  most 
judicious  friends  are  anxious  that  he  should  occupy,  as  affording  the 
freest  scope  and  greatest  efficiency  to  his  talents.  But,  thus  far,  all 
such  schemes  have  proved  unavailing. 

In  this  connection  we  quote  a  paragraph  of  a  speech  made  by  Dr. 
Bacon,  at  the  Albany  meeting  of  the  American  Board,  in  March  : 

"  In  the  course  of  this  discussion  yesterday,  the  name  of  President 
Wayland  was  mentioned  as  a  representative  of  one  side  of  the  ques- 
tion. Now  President  Wayland — for  whom  I  have  high  respect,  and 
who  is  one  of  the  foremost  men  in  our  country — has  a  theory  whose 
first  application  is  in  this  country ;  and  I  really  think  that  it  can  be 
applied  in  this  country  a  great  deal  better  than  in  India.  His  theory 
is,  the  theory  of  lay-preaching.  Its  object  is  to  break  down  the  divi- 
sion between  the  laity  and  the  ministry.  Are  we  not  all  brethren  ? 
the  clergy  and  the  laity,  are  they  not  all  brethren  ?  The  theoiy  we 
are  considering  is,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  all  churches,  when  they  need 
a  pastor,  not  to  ask  leave  of  Presbyteries  or  Associations  whom  they 
shall  call,  but  to  look  to  themselves, — to  look  at  home,  to  look  in 
their  own  church,  and  if  they  have  a  suitable  man,  to  take  him  and 
make  him  their  minister.  I  remember  to  have  heard  that  there 
was  a  church  in  New  York  once  in  this  condition,  and  which  did 
this  very  thing.  They  looked  among  themselves,  and  they  found 
there  a  young  lawyer  who  possessed  natural  gifts  and  the  gifts  of 
gi'ace ;  they  found  that  he  could  pray,  and  that  when  he  was  cor- 


REV.    JOHN   WILLIAMS.  245 

nered  lie  could  exhort,  and  tliey  took  him  and  placed  him  as  pastor 
over  them ;  and  that  man  is  Dr.  William  R.  Williams,  one  of  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  the  Baptist  churches.  He,  if  I  am  rightly 
informed,  never  saw  the  inside  of  a  Theological  Seminary  until  after 
he  was  a  pastor,  when  he  may  have  gone  to  some  seminary  on  a 
visiting  committee  or  as  a  director.  That  is  a  good  arrangement. 
It  is  a  good  system.  That  is  my  view  of  the  case.  But  I  say  the 
system  is  a  gi'eat  deal  better  for  this  country  than  it  is  for  India." 

Thus  stands  the  brief  epitome  of  the  life  of  William  R.  Williams, 
and  such  are  the  leading  traits  of  his  character.  There  may  be  some 
who,  having  heard  less  of  Dr.  Williams,  may  attribute  to  this  sketch 
the  fault  of  eulogy.  To  such  we  would  quote  a  remark  made  by  a 
distinguished  divine  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  New  York,  in 
the  presence  of  a  number  of  clergymen,  on  being  asked,  by  an  indi- 
vidual from  abroad,  for  his  candid  opinion  as  to  who  was  the  gTeatest 
man  among  the  clergy  of  New  York :  "  If  undoubted  piety,  unex- 
ampled humility,  comprehensive  scholarship,  wide  acquaintanceship 
with  history,  unusual  attainments  in  literature,  together  with  a  re- 
fined taste  and  rare  genius  as  a  writer,  constitute  a  great  man,  then 
William  R.  Williams,  of  the  Baptist  Church,  is  the  man  for  whom 
you  inquired." 

Dr.  Williams  is  the  son  of  Rev.  John  Williams,  who  was  pastor 
of  the  Oliver-street  Baptist  Church  for  twenty-seven  years,  until  his 
death,  in  1825.  He  was  a  native  of  Wales,  and  came  to  this  country 
in  the  year  1*795,  leaving  home,  kindred,  and  a  flock  of  whose  affec- 
tions he  was  entirely  possessed,  that  his  countrymen,  at  that  time 
emigrating  to  this  country  in  large  numbers,  might  not  be  scattered 
from  the  fold  of  the  church  as  "  sheep  having  no  shepherd."  He 
was  a  man  of  deep  and  fervent  piety,  and  of  uncommon  native  vigor 
of  mind.  He  labored  with  gi'eat  zeal  among  his  people,  not  only 
dispensing  the  bread  of  life  with  an  unremitted  earnestness,  but  also 
distributing  charities  to  the  poor  from  his  own  limited  store,  visiting 
the  sick,  comforting  the  afflicted,  consoling  the  desolate. 

The  following  description  of  his  character  is  given  in  his  Memoir : 

"Few  men  equalled  John  Williams  in  the  consistency  of  his 
Christian  character,  as  a  whole.    We  frequently  see  some  one  indi- 


24:6  WILLIA^I    R.    WILLIAMS. 

vidual  excellence  carried  out  into  glorious  exercise  at  the  expense 
and  to  the  neglect  of  other  virtues ;  but  in  his  character  all  the 
traits  of  true  Christianity  seemed  to  unite  their  beauty,  without 
givino-  to  any  one  feature  an  unseemly  prominence.  His  zeal  was 
ardent,  but  imited  with  the  greatest  prudence.  That  prudence, 
instead  of  degenerating  into  craftiness,  was  accompanied  by  the  most 
perfect  simphcity;  simplicity  was  tempered  by  meekness,  yet  his 
meekness  had  for  its  basis  strong  decision  of  character  and  unbend- 
ing firmness  of  principle.  He  never  insulted  charity  by  ofiering  to 
sacrifice  on  her  altar  the  truth  '  as  it  is  in  Jesus,'  and  yet  he  never 
hoped  to  advance  the  cause  of  truth  by  bringing  to  her  defence 
bigotry  and  intolerance.  He  loved  the  image  of  the  Saviour  wherever 
he  found  it,  and  it  was  not  the  barrier  of  his  own  sect,  or  the  badge 
of  another,  that  could  prevent  him  from  acknowledging  his  union  in 
spirit  with  those  whom  the  same  Redeemer  had  purchased  with  the 
same  blood." 

Who  will  fail  to  recognize,  in  the  portrait  of  the  father,  the  hke- 
ness  of  the  son  ?     The  mantle  of  Elijah  has  fallen  upon  Elisha. 


^. 


^a^^€<^<^     <iy  ■      A^^^^^^^--^^^^-^"^ 


CHARLES  G.  SOMMERS, 


"And  OS  Jesus  passed  forth  from  thence,  He  saw  a  man  sitting  at  the 
veceipt  of  castom ;  and  He  saith  imto  him,  Follow  me.  And  he  arose  and 
followed  Him." 


In  the  midst  of  the  newspaper  oflBces,  publishing  houses,  printing 
cstabHshments,  bookstores,  magazine  depots,  and  stationery  shops, 
crowded  into  Nassau-street,  once  stood  a  plain  and  modest  church. 
The  merchant,  in  his  chase  for  gain ;  the  editor,  evolving  the  public 
opinion  of  the  coming  day ;  the  compositor,  driven  to  his  daily  toil ; 
the  bookseller,  intent  on  a  new  edition ;  the  author,  absorbed  in  a 
suggested  illustration,  would  all  readily  pass  this  chm'ch,  unconscious 
of  its  actuality.  Yet  there  it  stood,  retiring  and  resigned,  as  if  al- 
ways looking  down  upon  the  rush  for  Fame  and  Gain,  more  in  sor- 
row than  in  anger ;  never  upbraiding,  never  reproaching ;  only  re- 
minding, by  its  silent  presence,  of  higher  gains,  and  of  more  endu- 
ring glories.  As  we  passed  it,  it  became  to  us  the  representative  of 
the  Christian  faith,  as,  like  that,  it  lived  disregarded,  almost  un- 
known, in  the  midst  of  din  and  bustle,  and  the  rushing,  eddying  tide 
of  life ;  while  around  its  overshadowing  neighbors,  personating  world- 
liness,  there  ever  crowded,  excited,  watchful,  faithful  devotees.  And 
then,  when  the  Sabbath  came,  and  the  doors  were  gently  opened,  a 
few  gathered  for  worship ; — how  few  compared  with  the  great  mass 
which,  all  the  week,  pressed  around  those  loftier  piles ! 

Thus  repeatedly  passing  this  quiet,  acquiescent  church,  we  felt 
impelled  to  turn  aside,  and  visit  it  on  its  o^vn  day;  when,  per- 
chance, it  might  relax  the  settled  seriousness  of  its  expression, 
and  take  a  happier,  hopefuller  view  of  life.      When  we  entered, 


2:1:8  CHARLES   G.   SOMMEES. 

the  organ  was  playing  a  familiar  tune,  with  such  a  plaintive 
melodv,  that  the  music  became  another  propelling  wave  to  our  re- 
flections. Then,  when  the  pastor  rose  for  prayer,  and  all  were 
hushed  in  silence,  and  the  petition  was  uttered  with  so  much  fer- 
vency, we  felt  more  than  ever  the  peculiar  inspiration  which  had 
gathered  about  the  place.  Another  interlude  of  subdued  music,  and 
the  preacher  read  his  text.  He  spoke  with  deliberation  and  rever- 
ence, as  if  it  were  impossible  to  speak  otherwise  in  a  church  which 
had  borne  its  testimony,  all  through  the  week,  in  such  calm  and  sol- 
emn quietness.  Then  he  preached,  ynih  strong  entreaties,  to  his 
flock,  lest  any  one  should  fail  of  entrance  into  the  fold  of  the  Great 
Shepherd ;  but  with  less  of  high-wrought  sentence,  and  glowing  im- 
agery, and  thrilling  illustration,  and  artistic  groupings,  than  attaches 
to  exalted  oratory,  as  there  was  little  of  elegance  or  ornament  or 
beauty  in  the  surrounding  architecture.  Plain,  unstudied,  unpre- 
tending ;  yet  compact,  well-founded,  and  sound  was  the  prevailing 
style  of  both  church  and  sermon.  After  a  while  we  learned  that 
Eev.  Mr.  Sommers  was  the  preacher,  and  this  testimony-bearing 
building  his  church ;  that  he  had  been  preaching  there.  Sabbath 
after  Sabbath,  for  twenty-seven  years ;  that  he  was  universally  re- 
spected, and  warmly  regarded ;  that  he  was  one  of  the  long-tried  la- 
borers in  the  vineyard,  who  had  borne  the  burden  and  heat  of  the 
day ;  and  that,  in  youth,  he  had  turned  aside  from  business,  and  con- 
secrated the  remainder  of  his  life  to  the  teaching  of  religious  truth. 
In  time,  we  chanced  to  meet  him ;  found  that  his  life  had  been  a 
varied  and  not  uneventful  one;  and  therefore  noted,  as  was  our 
wont,  some  experiences  of  the  preacher,  at  the  serious  and  overshad- 
owed church.  And  when  we  came  to  select  our  representatives  of 
the  American  Pulpit,  Mr.  Sommers  seemed,  with  most  distinctness, 
to  set  forth  the  class  of  preachers,  more  especially  of  the  Baptist  de- 
nomination, who  have  left  counter  or  desk  or  work-bench  at  the  call 
of  Heaven,  and  entered  the  pulpit ;  and  who  are  not  properly  included 
mider  the  div^sion  of  Pioneer  Preachers,  inasmuch  as  they  became 
settled  pastors,  and  not  itinerant  evangehsts.  But  these  incidents  are 
not  startling,  though  somewhat  striking.  They  tell  of  integrity  of 
purpose,  warmth  of  sentiment,   undiscouraged   industry,  and   the 


THE   NASSAU-STREET   CHURCn.  249 

guidings  of  an  overruling  Providence.  Tliey  help  one  to  realize  that 
there  is  in  this  world  much  of  accomplishment,  in  the  way  of  good- 
doing,  which  is  not  effected  through  distinguished  oratory  or  remark- 
able learning  or  exalted  genius ;  and  that,  as  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
business  and  excitement  and  wear  and  din  of  Nassau-street,  stood 
that  quiet  church ;  so  in  this  world's  turmoil  stand  many  unobtru- 
sive men,  who  bear  their  testimony,  through  life,  for  righteousness 
and  God. 

But  changes  have  come  with  the  turn  of  years :  the  organ  is 
silent ;  the  pulpit  is  gone ;  the  Church  no  longer  utters  its  testi- 
mony against  Gain  and  Fame ;  but  now,  we  are  compelled  to  say, 
ills  of  body  instead  of  soul  are  its  anxiety,  and  on  its  forehead  the 
following  sentence  is  written  in  gilded  letters,  at  once  the  flaunt  of  its 
degradation  and  the  epitaph  of  its  lost  life  :  "  Temple  of  Health— 
Dr.  S.  p.  Townsend." 


EARLY   LIFE. 


Charles  G.  Sommers  was  born  in  the  city  of  London,  in  the  year 
1  *? 9 3 .  His  father  was  a  Norwegian,  whose  birthplace  was  Tronheim. 
His  Christian  name  was  "  Ole,"  a  favorite  one  in  Norway.  The  early 
part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  Denmark,  where  he  received  the  usual 
school  instruction  allotted  to  boys. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  he  was  m  Copenhagen  when  that  city 
was  bombarded  by  Nelson,  on  the  eventful  2d  of  April,  1801.  The 
day  before,  the  English  fleet,  consisting  of  fifty-one  sail  of  various 
descriptions,  of  which  sixteen  were  ships  of  the  line,  came  to  an 
anchorage  within  two  leagues  of  Copenhagen,  off  the  N.  W.  end  of 
the  "Middle  Ground,"  a  shoal  lying  before  the  town,  only  three- 
fourths  of  a  mile  distant.  In  the  King's  Channel,  between  this  shoal 
and  the  town,  the  Danes  had  arranged  theh-  line  of  defence,  con- 
sisting of  nineteen  ships  and  floating  batteries,  flanked  at  one  end 
by  the  Crown  Batteries,  works  of  a  most  formidable  character,  the 
largest  one  mounting  eighty-three  guns.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the 
British  fleet  weighed  anchor,  doubled  the  farther  end  of  the  shoal. 


250  CIIAKLES    G.    SOMMEBS. 

and  came  to  anchor  within  two  miles  of  the  Danish  batteries.  Here 
these  mighty  battle-ships  lay  all  night,  in  a  foreboding  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  dash  of  waves  against  their  huge  black  sides,  or  by 
sound  of  revelry,  and  low  murmur  of  preparation,  which  ever  and 
anon  issued  from  the  open  port-holes.  In  the  British  fleet  it  was 
a  night  of  wild  joy,  and  hope,  and  glorious  anticipation  of  the  mor- 
row's victory,  with  the  thrilling  excitement  which  nerves  the  arm 
and  steels  the  heart  of  soldier  and  seaman,  in  the  prospect  of 
desolating  contest.  But  the  gloom  of  night  which  settled  over  the 
doomed  city  of  Copenhagen  was  but  a  faint  image  of  the  fore- 
bodings shutting  down  so  darkly  on  the  hearts  of  all  its  desperate 
defenders.  About  ten  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  Lord  Nel- 
son's ships  had  taken  their  allotted  places,  and  at  the  signal  opened 
their  tremendous  fire  on  the  Danish  armament.  It  was  returned  by 
the  shot  of  one  thousand  guns,  which  spoke  in  terms,  not  to  be  mis- 
understood, of  the  desperate  bravery  with  which  the  Danes  would 
defend  their  native  land,  and  of  the  terrible  destruction  through 
which  the  British  flag  must  pass  ere  it  waved  in  triumph  over  the 
citadels  of  Copenhagen.  For  more  than  five  hours  did  these  two 
mighty  combatants,  the  flower  of  the  English  navy,  and  the  concen- 
trated strength  of  Denmark,  wage  upon  each  other  a  warfare  of 
magnificent  bravery,  but  of  awfal  carnage.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  the  batteries  of  Denmark  were  silenced,  most  of  her  ships  had 
struck,  all  of  them  were  riddled,  one,  the  Danebro,  of  eighty  guns, 
had  caught  fire,  and  blown  up,  while  six  thousand  of  her  brave 
sons  had  been  taken  from  her.  It  was  one  of  the  hardest  fought 
battles  that  Humanity  has  been  called  to  mourn  over.  On  one  side 
a  nation's  honor,  on  another  a  nation's  safety  were  the  stakes.  On 
both  sides  were  marshalled  men  who  knew  no  inspiration  equal  to 
that  of  their  country's  call,  and  paid  no  heed  to  personal  safety  when 
her  safety  was  endangered. 

Young  Sommers  was  witness  of  it  all,  in  its  terribleness,  its  havoc, 
and  its  magnificence.  He  was  then  only  nine  years  of  age,  but 
with  the  curiosity  and  enterprise  of  youth,  he  determined  to  see  a 
sight  which  is  rarely  equalled.  In  the  confusion  which  reigned  in 
every  household,  he  escaped  from  home,  and  making  for  the  seaside, 


BOMBARDMENT   OF    COPENHAGEN.  251 

came  to  one  of  those  immense  cranes,  seen  about  docks,  employed 
to  raise  heavy  timbers.  It  consisted  of  an  upright  beam,  perhaps 
twenty  feet  high,  with  a  long  arm  standing  out  from  its  top  at  an 
obtuse  angle,  and  reaching  over  the  water.  This  crane  the  daring 
little  fellow  climbed,  and  slipping  out  to  the  end  of  the  arm,  quietly 
surveyed  the  battle  scene.  It  was  a  subUme  sight;  and  if  ever 
panoramist  makes  an  attempt  to  represent  that  battle,  in  the  fore- 
ground he  should  place  young  Sommers,  his  feet  dangling  over  the 
side  of  the  huge  ship-crane,  holding  on  with  one  hand,  while  with 
the  other  he  swings  his  hat  in  patriotic  exultation,  as  he  sees  the 
broad  pennant  of  his  countryman  Nelson  bearing  down  on  the 
batteries  of  the  enemy — ^his  throat  swelhng  with  the  shout  which 
finds  no  hearing  amid  the  roar  of  three  thousand  cannon,  and  over 
his  head  rolling  the  huge  sulphuric  war-cloud,  that  bore  in  its  folds 
the  stifled  groans  of  thousands.  While  there,  he  saw  the  ship 
Banebro,  when  it  caught  on  fire,  left  to  her  fate  and  blown  up.  A 
young  man,  an  acquaintance  of  Sommers,  was  on  board  of  her, 
who  afterwards  told  Sommers,  as  illustrating  the  horrors  of  the 
light,  that  the  gun  at  which  he  was  stationed  had  been  cleared  three 
times  before  he  took  his  stand,  that  he  gathered  up  with  his  hands 
the  broken  legs,  and  arms,  and  bodies  torn  in  piecemeal,  and  threw 
them  into  the  sea,  to  clear  a  place  to  work  in,  on  the  encumbered 
deck ;  and  that  he  was  obliged  to  pull  off  his  boots  that  he  might, 
by  the  roughness  of  his  stockings,  maintain  a  footing ;  so  fi-eely  had 
human  blood  flowed  on  its  drenched  surface ! 

That  evening  Lord  Nelson  came  on  shore,  and  Sommers  had  a 
good  sight  of  him.  Villemoes,  too,  he  often  saw— and  describes  him 
as  of  a  very  modest  and  retiring  appearance — of  whom  the  following 
story  is  told  by  Southey : 

"  A  youth  of  seventeen,  by  name  Villemoes,  particularly  distin- 
guished himself  on  this  memorable  day.  He  had  volunteered  to 
take  the  command  of  a  floating  battery ;  which  was  a  raft,  con- 
sisting merely  of  a  number  of  beams  nailed  together,  with  a  floor- 
ing to  support  the  guns :  it  was  square,  with  a  breastwork  full  of 
port-holes,  and  without  masts,  carrying  twenty-four  guns,  and  one 
hundred  and  twenty  men.     With  this  he  got  under  the  stern  of  the 


252  CHAELES    G.   SOMMERS. 

Elephant,  below  the  reach  of  the  stern-chasers ;  and,  under  a  heavy 
fire  of  small  arms  from  the  marines,  fought  his  raft,  till  the  truce 
was  announced,  with  such  skill,  as  well  as  courage,  as  to  excite 
Nelson's  warmest  admiration." 

When  Lord  Nelson  went  on  shore,  after  the  business  of  negoti- 
ation was  transacted,  he  requested  that  Villemoes  might  be  intro- 
duced to  him ;  and,  shaking  hands  with  the  youth,  told  the  prince 
that  he  ought  to  be  made  an  admiral.  The  prince  replied  :  "  If,  my 
lord,  I  am  to  make  all  my  brave  oflBcers  admirals,  I  should  have  no 
captains  or  lieutenants  in  my  service." 

It  was  six  years  after  this,  that  a  British  fleet  suddenly  appeared 
oflfElsinore,  the  toll-gate  city  of  Denmark.  It  amounted  to  nearly  a 
score  of  line  ships,  a  large  number  of  frigates  and  gun-boats,  with 
transports  carrying  some  twenty  thousand  men.  As  they  swept  into 
the  straits  under  a  light  wind,  with  all  sails  spread,  flags  and  pen- 
nants and  streamers  flying  from  mastheads,  bows,  and  sterns, 
every  yard  throughout  the  whole  fleet  manned  \N^th  seamen,  Mr. 
Sommers  describes  it  as  one  of  the  magnificent  sights.  And  when 
the  bands  of  eleven  regiments  struck  up  the  national  air,  "  Rule, 
Britannia,  rule  the  wave,"  the  effect  was  thrilling.  With  his  usual 
enterprise  in  search  of  incident  or  infoimation,  he  jumped  into  a 
skiff  with  a  companion,  and  pulled  off  for  the  Prince  of  Wales,  a 
ninety-eight  gun  ship.  Going  on  board,  he  was  most  kindly  re- 
ceived, and  invited  below  to  a  repast  with  the  officers.  He  frankly 
inquired  where  they  were  going  with  such  a  fleet.  An  officer  re- 
plied, "We  do  not  know ;  sealed  orders  have  been  given  us,  which  will 
be  opened  this  afternoon,  and  we  ^qpe  it  is  not  to  Copenhagen." 
But  alafi !  it  was.  That  afternoon  the  fleet  weighed  anchor  for  that 
unfortunate  city,  and  the  next  morning  the  booming  of  cannon  was 
heard  at  Elsinore,  twenty-four  miles  distant,  and  Copenhagen  was 
again  bombarded  and  taken.  This  attack  was  made  under  the 
command  of  Lord  Gambler,  Sir  Home  Popham  being  the  field- 
officer  in  command  on  board.  It  was  done  for  the  purpose  of  get- 
ting possession  of  the  Danish  fleet,  which  lay  dismantled  in  its  har- 
bor. This  fleet  the  English  Government  was  informed  by  their 
active  minister  abroad,  Jackson,  was  to  come  into  the  possession  of 


MERCANTILE    LIFE.  253 

the  Frencli,  which  John  Bull  could  not,  and  did  not  allow.  The 
fleet  was  captured ;  English  sailors  swarmed  on  board  of  the  stripped 
vessels,  rigged  them,  fitted  them  for  sea  in  a  week,  and  the  two  fleets 
passed  over  to  England.  In  this  engagement,  the  enthusiasm  of 
young  Sommers  would  not  allow  him  merely  to  sit  quietly  on  the 
end  of  a  ship-crane,  but  he  must  assist  in  the  defence  of  his  adopted 
country.  So  he  joined  the  company  which  manned  the  old  fort 
Kroneborg,  whose  guns  swept  the  straits,  and  there  played  away  at 
the  ships  as  they  passed.  But  we  must  leave  any  further  descrip- 
tion of  these  exciting  times,  and  turn  to  other  incidents  in  the  life 
of  our  friend,  more  in  accordance  with  the  principles  he  has  been  so 
long  advocating.  Suffice  it  to  add,  that  these  very  scenes  excited  no 
longing  for  all  "  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war,"  but 
left  on  his  youthful  mind  an  indelible  impression  of  its  horrors ;  and 
has  moved  a  deeper  earnestness  in  enforcing  the  truth  of  that  Gos- 
pel whose  motto  is  "  Peace  on  earth,  good- will  to  men." 

At  the  early  age  of  ten,  he  was  introduced  into  the  counting-room 
of  the  well-known  house  of  Mullins  &  Knox,  at  Elsinore,  Denmark. 
Here  he  was  regularly  educated  in  the  mercantile  department,  be- 
ing favored  with  training  of  a  higher  order  than  that  vouchsafed  to 
all  clerks  of  the  present  day.  In  the  first  place,  a  youth  w^as  admit- 
ted into  a  mercantile  house  only  by  the  most  unexceptionable  recom- 
mendations, both  from  friends  and  personal  appearance.  After  his 
adoption  into  the  house  he  was  conducted  up  through  all  the  stages 
of  business,  from  the  simple  copying  of  correspondence  to  the  respon- 
sible book-keeping;  and  then,  if  he  had  faithfully  performed  the 
duties  of  his  term  of  service,  his  employer  provided  for  him,  either 
by  taking  him  in  as  a  partner,  or  setting  him  up  in  business.  Such 
cases  occur  now-a-days,  but  not  so  generally  as  in  the  "  good  old 
times." 

In  the  year  1808,  Mr.  Sommers  satisfactorily  completed  his  term 
:)f  service  in  the  house  of  Mullins  &  Knox,  and  immediately  left 
Denmark  for  this  country.  He  had  heard  of  our  civil  institutions, 
had  become  enamored  of  them,  and  looked  with  longing  towards 
"  the  home  of  the  free,  and  the  land  of  the  brave."  He  knew  also 
of  the  energy  of  American  character,  and  the  boldness  of  American 


254:  CHARLES    G.    SOMMERS. 

enterprise ;  and  both  tliese  were  in  harmony  with  his  own  traits.  It 
was  in  such  a  land,  with  its  free  air,  and  among  such  a  people,  's\'ith 
their  manly  eflfort,  that  Sommers  most  wished  to  hve  and  act.  So 
he  started  oflf  in  the  hopeful,  spirited  way  which  characterizes  youth 
ful  undertakings.  Hearing  one  morning,  that  a  friend,  a  young 
man  by  the  name  of  Ole  Ronning,  was  on  the  point  of  starting  for 
America,  on  board  the  ship  Servia,  bound  to  Providence,  he  packed 
up  his  things,  hastened  to  the  ship,  and  found  himself  under  way 
that  afternoon.  It  was  not  till  they  were  out  at  sea,  and  the  low  outline 
of  the  land  of  his  adoption  had  faded  from  his  sight,  that  he  seriously 
inquired,  "  What  shall  I  do  in  America  ?  and  how  shall  I  get  on  ?" 
We  wish  nothing  better  for  a  young  man  than  the  hopeful  spirit  of 
young  Sommers,  founded  upon  as  good  a  character,  which  straight- 
way answered,  "  Oh,  you  can  do  any  thing  that  the  Yankees  can 
do ;"  and  there  the  matter  rested. 

On  her  way  to  America,  the  ship  visited  Lisbon,  and  while  ^j^ng 
there  the  passengers  went  on  shore;  but  their  pleasant  land-spell 
was  suddenly  brought  to  a  close,  for  couriers  came  with  the  news 
that  Marshal  Junot  was  approaching  with  an  army  of  30,000  French- 
men. The  ship  got  quickly  under  way ;  and  as  she  cleared  the  river 
Tagus,  the  French  entered  the  gates  of  Lisbon. 

Mr.  Sommers,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  this  country,  connected 
himself  with  the  firm  of  White,  Brothers  &  Co.,  of  New  York. 
After  having  remained  with  them  about  a  year,  application  was 
made  to  the  firm  for  his  services,  by  John  Jacob  Astor,  who  was 
largely  engaged  in  the  fur-trade  and  in  the  shipping  interest.  Mr. 
White  generously  advised  him  to  accept  of  Mr.  Astor's  proposal, 
from  the  fact  that  his  chances  for  success  in  mercantile  life  would 
be  enhanced  by  the  change,  as  Mr.  Astor  was  doing  such  a  heav}- 
and  profitable  business.  The  desire  of  Mr.  Astor  to  secure  Sommers 
as  his  clerk,  is  evidence  of  the  recommendation  the  youth  ever  car- 
ried with  him,  in  his  open,  bright  countenance  and  manly  bearing. 
He  was  one  of  those,  to  whom  every  one  seemed  to  "  take  a  liking." 
Nature  had  blessed  him  with  a  handsome  face  and  finished  person, 
while  the  brightness  of  his  eye  and  the  bloom  of  his  cheeks  gave 
proof  of  the  perfection  of  his  health  and  the  elasticity  of  his  spirits. 


JOHN    JACOB   ASTOK.  255 

He  liad,  too,  an  active,  oflf-hand  way  of  doing  business,  wliicli  the 
steadiest,  sternest  man  fancies  in  a  youth.  Always  wide-awake,  he 
was  on  the  alert  for  the  advantage  of  his  employer,  when  business 
demanded ;  and  ready  for  a  little  boyish  sport,  when  work  was  done. 
He  had  also  a  kind  and  generous  heart  and  gallant  sentiments, 
which  made  him  a  favorite  among  his  fellows ;  while  he  was  upright 
and  pure  in  character.  He  strove  to  live  on  good  terms  with  all, 
and  ever  stood  ready  to  do  a  ftivor.  His  natural  activity,  liowever, 
had  disinclined  him  to  close  application  to  books,  and  his  ready  tact 
at  acquisition,  and  habits  of  observation,  relieved  him,  in  some  meas- 
ure, from  the  necessity  of  confining  study.  In  this  latter  particular 
he  changed  witb  the  increase  of  years,  and  when  the  responsibilities 
of  life  pressed  upon  him,  he  became  assiduous  in  literary  toil.  It^ 
was  in  1811  that  he  was  fairly  installed  in  the  counting-house  of 
Mr.  Astor,  the  same  building  which  now  stands  at  the  corner  of 
Pearl  and  Pine  streets. 

He  had  been  about  a  year  connected  with  this  house,  when  it 
happened  to  be  for  Mr.  Astor's  interest  to  send  a  swift  schooner, 
with  a  valuable  cargo,  to  the  Mediterranean,  to  run  by  the  British 
guns  at  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  this  country  being  then  at  war  with 
England.  It  was  about  ten  o'clock  on  Saturday  evening,  as  all 
hands  connected  with  the  house  were  busily  employed  in  getting 
the  papers  of  the  schooner  ready,  that  Mr.  Astor,  whose  desk  stood 
opposite  to  Sommers's,  suddenly  looking  up,  and  addressing  him  by 
his  given  name,  said — "Well,  Charles,  I  suppose  you  will  come 
down  to-morrow  morning,  and  help  us  oflf  with  the  schooner  ?" 
"Charles"  looked  up  in  return,  but  said  not  a  word.  It  was  a 
trying  moment  for  him.  On  the  one  hand,  he  felt  that  it  would  be 
wi'ong  "  to  do  any  manner  of  work "  on  the  Sabbath,  and  yet  he 
was  confident  that  a  refusal  in  the  emergency  would  be  followed  by 
his  "  walking-papers  "  on  Monday.  He  paused  but  a  moment,  and 
replied — "  Mr.  Astor,  I  cannot  come  down  to-morrow,  for  it  is  God's 
day,  and  I  will  do  no  man's  work  on  that  day."  It  was  a  trying 
moment,  but  great  was  his  relief  when  Mr.  Astor  laughingly  turned 
to  another  clerk  and  said — "  Well,  David,  I'm  glad  we've  got  one 
Christian  amongst  us :  so,  Charles,  you  go  to  church  to-morrow  and 


256  CHARLES    G.    SOM^IERS. 

pray  for  us ;  and  tlie  rest  of  us  will  come  down  and  get  oflf  tte 
schooner."  A  week  had  not  elapsed  before  Mr.  Astor  came  to  Som- 
raers  Avith  an  order  that  he  should  be  ready  in  twelve  hours  for  a 
two  months'  journey  of  importance. 

At  the  time  appointed  he  was  ready,  and  received  letters  of  intro- 
duction to  firms  in  Canada  and  to  the  oflScers  on  the  line,  his  own 
instructions,  and  ten  thousand  dollars  in  money.  Thus  he  started 
on  the  difficult  and  perilous  enterprise  of  bringing  safely  to  New 
York  a  large  amount  of  property,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  last  war  with  England.  This  commerce  was  carried  on 
in  accordance  with  certain  stipulations  between  the  Governments 
It  was  a  department  of  business  that  Mr.  Astor  had  hitherto  intmsted 
to  his  eldest  clerk ;  and  never  would  he  have  consigned  it  to  Som- 
mers,  who  was  then  only  nineteen,  if,  in  addition  to  his  usual  enter- 
prise and  judgment,  that  reply  on  Saturday  night  had  not  come  as 
convincing  proof  of  his  integrity  and  independence.  On  his  journey 
he  had  many  narrow  escapes.  Once  the  speed  of  his  horse  saved 
him  from  a  lurking  savage,  and  once  he  was  taken  prisoner  by  the 
Indians,  and  earned  to  La  Cole  Mills,  where  General  Pike  not  many 
hours  after  made  an  assault  upon  the  Indian  camp,  with  a  brigade 
of  the  United  States  Army.  He  was  soon  released,  however,  by  a 
pass  from  Colonel  Hamilton,  but  was  again  detained  by  order  of  the 
notorious  Colonel  Murray.  With  great  difficulty  he  at  last  reached 
Montreal,  transacted  his  business,  and  safely  escorted  his  valuable 
cargo  to  New  York,  within  the  prescribed  two  months.  So  greatly 
was  Mr.  Astor  pleased  with  the  execution  of  this  commission,  that 
he  was  getting  ready  another  letter  of  instructions  for  an  expedition 
to  Mackinaw,  before  Mr.  Sommers  had  hardly  time  to  warm  him- 
self; but,  on  proposing  the  plan,  was  met,  to  his  astonishment,  with 
a  decided  "No,  sir,  I  cannot  go."  "And  why  not?"  "I  have 
determined,  sir,  to  become  a  minister."  Without  a  word  Mr.  Astor 
turned  on  his  heel,  but  after  Sommers  had  left  the  room,  broke  out 
^vith  an  imprecation,  saying,  "  The  boy's  a  fool.  He  might  make  a 
first-rate  merchant,  and  he  is  going  into  the  priesthood^  Yes, 
it  was  so :  our  promising  merchant  had  determined  to  be  a 
minister. 


CKOSSING   TIIE   LINE.  257 

Rarely  has  a  young  man  possessed  brighter  prospects  of  wealth 
and  station.  He  was  endowed  with  precisely  those  traits  which 
insure  success— health,  energy,  perseverance,  judgment,  integrity, 
and  winning  manners.  He  was  thoroughly  educated  in  the  mer- 
cantile department,  and  a  favorite  of  his  employer.  But  he  turned 
his  back  upon  these  bright  prospects. 

The  truth  is,  that  on  his  northern  tour,  ho  had  accomplished  some 
business  for  himself,  of  which  Mr.  Astor  was  ignorant,  and  the  im- 
portance of  which  the  millionaire,  busied  in  plans  of  making  money, 
could  not  appreciate.     He  had  consecrated  himself  to  the  service  of 
his  God.     At  that  time  there  stood  on  our  Northern  frontier  a  de- 
serted smuggler's  hut,  so  situated  that  goods  rolled  in  at  one  end, 
would,  before  reaching  the  other,  cross  the  hne.     In  this  building 
Mr.  S.  on  one  night  took  shelter,  and  there  kneeling  in  the  darkness 
but  with  the  light  of  heaven  in  his  soul,  he  consecrated  himself  to 
the  work  of  the  Gospel  preacher.     He  crossed  "  the  hne"  that  lay 
between  the  service  of  God  and  mammon,  and  brought  over  with 
him  all  the  enterprise,  the  perseverance,  and  the  skill  which  would 
have  made  him,  had  he  remained,   "a  first-rate   merchant."    As 
we  would  illustrate  the  first  part  of  Sommers's  life  by  the  scene  of 
the  ship's  crane  on  the  beach  of  Copenhagen,  so  would  we  represent 
the  second  part  by  the  scene  in  that  deserted  smuggler's  hut— the 
moon  stealing  in  between  the  logs— the  stars  looking  down  through 
the  chinks  above— and  this  youth  of  nineteen,  with  his  pocket  Bible 
lying  on  a  broken  chair  near  by,  kneehng  in  the  solitude,  and  ofier- 
ing  up  his  consecrating  vow  to  the  great  Jehovah. 

It  was  before  this  time,  however,  that  Mr.  Sommers  had  ex- 
perienced the  change  when  the  soul  breaks  the  fetters  of  sense, 
and  breathes  the  liberty  of  divine  love.  The  circumstances  con- 
nected with  this  change  are  worthy  of  narration.  Soon  after  he 
came  to  America  he  was  urged  by  a  friend  to  hear  the  celebrated 
Dr.  Mitchell,  a  Universalist  preacher  of  New  York.  He  went,  wa^ 
captivated  by  his  eloquence,  won  by  his  persuasion,  and  embraced 
the  doctrines  so  enticingly  presented.  His  mind  was  predisposed  to 
those  doctrines.  The  propriety  and  purity  of  his  habits,  together 
with  the  partiality  of  friends,  had  engendered  in  his  mind  a  very 

17 


258  CHAKLES    G.    SOMMEES. 

favorable  opinion  of  himself,  wliile  the  buoyancy  of  his  spirits  in- 
clined to  a  hopeful  future,  or  at  least  precluded  all  forebodings  oi 
evil.     He  immediately  entered  with  his  usual  ardor  into  the  study 
of  the  subject,  obtained  Universalist  books,  pored  over  Universalist 
arguments,  and  ere  long  became  so  conversant  with  the  principles  oi 
that  faith,  and  the  strong  points  of  defence  ;  so  well  versed  not  only 
in  the  modus  operandi^  but  also  in  the  modus  loquendi^  and  so  fa- 
miliar with  the  verbal  minutiae  of  their  warfare,  that  he  could  readily 
upset  any  ordinary  opponent  in  debate,  and  keep  up  a  good  running 
fight  with  the  best.     He  therefore  discussed  much,  and  his  success 
increased  his  confidence  and  inspired  his  zeal.     While  in  this  state 
of  mind  he  arose  one  morning  in  his  usual  perfection  of  health,  but 
was  soon  attacked  with  headache,  and  in  consequence  sent  to  the 
counting-house  an  excuse  for  his  absence.     He  lay  till  afternoon  en- 
during a  pain  entirely  new  to  him,  when  the  question  was  suggested 
to  his  mind.  Is  not  this  death  ?     I  am  ignorant  of  the  sensations 
which  accompany  death — this  may  be  its  premonition — what  if  it 
should  be  death  ?     What  is  my  probable  destiny  beyond  the  grave  ? 
Shall  I  live  forever  ?     Am  I  certain  of  salvation  ?     After  all,  are  my 
doctrines  true  ?     There  was  now  no  opportunity  for  self-support  by 
lie  overthrow  of  an  opponent,  nor  for  the  increase  of  confidence  by 
a  successful  debate.     He  was  alone — with  his  conscience  and  his 
God.     If  he  could  have  met  a  disputant,  the  rising  doubt  would  have 
been  crushed ;  but  now  in  the  solitude  of  his  chamber  it  went  on 
increasing,  and  the  spirit  of  questioning  grew  mightier  and  mightier. 
But  have  I  not  been  faithful  to  business,  and  kind  to  my  fellows,  and 
loved  my  friends  ?    Am  I  not  better  than  most,  and  approved  by  all  ? 
Yes,  the  voice  of  conscience  seemed  to  reply,  you  have  been  true  and 
kind  to  man,  but  have  you  loved  your  God  ?     Ah !  that  was  of  all 
the  most  searching  question.   Have  you  loved  the  Being  who  created 
you,  sustained  you,  would  redeem  you;  who  demands  the  profoundest 
adoration  of  your  being  ?     It  was  an  honest  hour  with  Sommers, 
and  in  the  silence  and  solemnity  of  that  hour  his  inmost  heart  re- 
sponded, No.    Then  there  came  up  before  him  in  fearful  array,  the 
sins  of  his  past  years — not  dishonesty,  for  he  had  never  cheated — not 
intemperance,  for  he  had  been  always  abstemious — not  profanity, 


COMMENCES   PKEACHING.  259 

for  lie  had  never  blasphemed — but  simply,  forgetfulness  of  God ; 
disregard  of  the  promptings  of  his  better  nature ;  conviction  of 
having  always  lived  to  himself,  even  in  his  generosity,  and  never 
having  followed  in  humble  faith  and  child-like  love  the  guidings  of 
his  heavenly  Father.  He  saw  it  all,  and  in  this  revelation  of  him- 
self, he  felt — deeply  and  painfully  felt,  that  he  had  no  claim  to  that 
inheritance  promised  only  to  the  sons  of  God.  In  an  agony  of 
penitence  for  the  past,  and  of  supplication  for  the  future,  he  knelt  in 
the  presence  of  the  Holy  One.  From  that  hour  he  was  changed. 
Not  so  much  in  external  behavior — though,  perhaps,  his  words  of 
kindness  bore  a  more  earnest  tone,  and  his  deeds  of  charity  sought 
more  secret  places — but  he  was  changed  in  the  whole  spirit  and 
motive  of  his  life.  Higher  objects  for  which  to  live  rose  up  before 
him ;  nobler  ends  for  which  to  labor  were  suggested  ;  conscience  be- 
came more  authoritative ;  life  seemed  more  intense,  and  the  future 
world  appeared  nearer  at  hand,  and  more  full  of  glory.  And  ever 
since,  the  present  life  has  been  growing  more  earnest  to  him,  and  the 
future  hfe  still  more  "  full  of  glory." 

Mr.  Sommers  made  a  public  profession  of  religion  in  the  Mulberry- 
street  Baptist  Church,  and  was  soon  licensed  by  the  proper  author- 
ity to  preach.  He  commenced  the  duties  of  his  profession  by 
holding  meetings  in  the  old  Almshouse,  in  the  Park,  the  building 
which  was  burnt  in  the  winter  of  1853-4.  Ere  long  he  had 
preached  in  nearly  all  the  rooms  on  the  three  floors  of  that  build- 
ing. In  this  "  labor  of  love"  he  was  succeeded  by  Rev.,  afterwards 
Dr.  Stiles  Ely.  From  this  work  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  to  insure 
a  more  thorough  preparation,  and  studied  Hebrew  and  Theology 
under  the  direction  of  the  celebrated  William  Staughton,  D.  D. 

Having  followed  the  course  of  Mr.  Sommers  through  the  leading 
incidents  of  his  varied  experience  to  the  time  when  he  entered  upon 
the  ministry ;  having  become  somewhat  acquainted  w^ith  his  char- 
acter, and  seen  that  he  possessed  the  power  of  accomplishing,  let  us 
mark  what  he  has  done  during  a  professional  career  of  forty  years. 

In  this  presentation,  the  six  years  of  pastoral  life  spent  in  Troy 
come  first  in  order.  He  was  called  to  the  First  Baptist  Church  in 
that  city,  after  the  completion  of  his  studies  in  Philadelphia.     Here 


260  CIIAKLES    G.    SOMMERS. 

he  labored  with  success,  and  large  numbers  were  added  to  the 
Church.  During  his  stay  there,  he  preached  frequently  at  Pittstown, 
a  village  not  far  from  Troy,  and  an  interesting  revival  of  rehgion 
followed  his  ministrations.  He  has  ever  recurred  with  pleasure  to 
his  connection  with  these  two  places.  He  removed  from  Troy  to 
New  York  city,  and  was  installed  pastor  of  the  South  Baptist 
Chiu"ch,  with  which  he  has  since  maintained  an  unbroken  connec- 
tion during  a  period  of  thirty-four  years.  The  German  Church, 
that  formerly  stood  in  Nassau-street,  near  Maiden-lane,  was  pur- 
chased for  Mr.  Sommers  by  his  father-in-law,  Thomas  Skelding,  Esq., 
and  his  brother-in-law,  Hon.  John  B.  Yates,  and  the  title-deed  pre- 
sented to  him.  This  gift,  however,  he  refused.  It  was  in  this  build- 
ing that  the  distinguished  Baron  Steuben  worshipped  and  owned  a 
pew.  After  his  death,  John  Jacob  Astor  occupied  the  same  pew. 
This  pew  was  an  old-fashioned,  aristocratic  affair,  quite  unlike  any 
thing  of  our  day.  It  was  square,  with  high  posts  running  up  from 
each  corner,  from  which  curtains  were  suspended,  very  much  after 
the  old-fashioned  bedsteads.  In  these  democratic  days,  if  some 
worthy  patriarch  feels  inclined  to  take  a  brief  nap,  he  cannot  draw 
any  protecting  curtains  snugly  about  him,  but  must  do  his  nodding 
in  the  presence  of  the  whole  congregation.  After  occupying  this 
building  for  four  years,  the  society  removed  to  the  building  in  Nas- 
sau-street, to  which  reference  has  been  made  in  the  early  part  of  this 
sketch.  This  property  was  also  presented  to  Mr.  Sommers,  but  this, 
as  well  as  the  other,  he  declined.  The  property  is  worth  to-day  forty 
thousand  dollars. 

During  the  whole  of  his  pastoral  charge  of  this  church,  Mr. 
Sommers  has  conducted  three  services  on  the  Sabbath,  and  two 
weekly  conference  meetings,  w4th  scarcely  an  omission.  When  he 
was  installed,  a  stipulation  was  made  by  his  friends  that  he  should 
have  six  weeks'  vacation  each  year,  but  he  has  not  availed  him- 
self of  the  privilege.  During  thirty-four  years  he  has  not  left  the 
city  a  single  day  except  at  the  call  of  duty.  He  had  abundant 
means  to  go,  and  plenty  of  inducements,  but  he  never  had  the 
time.  There  was  always  some  work  left  for  him  to  do.  And  even 
when  he  was  sent  to  England  as  a  delegate  by  the  Canadian  Educa- 


AMERICAN   AXD   FOREIGN   BIBLE   SOCIETY.  261 

tion  Society,  the  American  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  and  the  Bap- 
tist Home  Missionary  Society,  he  only  remained  just  long  enough 
to  accomplish  his  mission,  without  allowing  one  additional  day  for 
pleasure,  travelling,  or  sight-seeing.  Not  but  that  he  was  ahve  to 
the  beauties  of  nature,  or  the  magnificence  of  ruins,  or  the  poetry  of 
old  associations,  but  he  had  not  time. 

The  South  Baptist  Church  was  constituted  with  only  twelve  mem- 
bers, since  which,  it  is  believed,  several  hundreds  have  become 
Christians  in  connection  with  its  ministrations.  Nineteen  hcentiates 
have  gone  forth  from  its  bosom,  three  of  whom  have  formed  branch 
churches,  among  which  is  the  First  German  Baptist  Church  in  New 
York.  It  is  well  to  state  in  this  connection,  that  Mr.  Sommers  has 
performed  the  duties  of  a  pastor  longer  to  the  same  church  than  any 
Baptist  minister  in  America  now  living.  In  this  city,  Drs.  Spring 
and  Knox  only  are  his  seniors  in  the  pastoral  service. 

Now,  the  faithful  care  of  a  church  is  usually  considered  full  em- 
ployment for  one  man,  sometimes  for  two,  and  when  this  care  is 
extended  during  the  entire  year,  it  partakes  of  the  arduous ;  so  that, 
if  Mr.  Sommers  had  done  nothing  more,  provided  he  had  well  done 
this,  he  would  not  have  been  found  wanting.  But  secondly,  he  was 
chosen,  in  1823,  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  American  Bible  So- 
ciety, an  oflSce  which  is  not  by  any  means  a  sinecure.  In  this  de- 
partment he  served  faithfully  six  years.  At  the  expiration  of  this 
time  the  American  and  Foreign  Bible  Society  was  formed  by  the 
Baptist  denomination,  and  he  was  chosen  its  first  corresponding 
secretary,  having  been  active  in  its  establishment.  In  this  he  served 
about  the  same  length  of  time  as  in  the  previous  department.  We 
happen  to  know  something  about  the  amount  of  labor  performed  by 
Mr.  Sommers  in  connection  with  this  society,  and  we  speak  within 
bounds  when  we  say  that  it  would  average  five  hours  of  hard  work, 
for  every  day  of  every  year  during  the  whole  time.  He  conducted 
the  whole  correspondence  of  the  society,  wrote  the  annual  repoits, 
and  edited  the  quarterly  paper.  Besides  all  this,  there  was  a  great 
amount  of  miscellaneous  business  to  do,  most  of  which  came  upon 
him,  from  his  familiarity  with  the  whole  department.  Besides,  there 
were  all  the  society's  meetings  to  attend,  not  only  the  public  gather- 


262  CHARLES   G.    SOM^IEES. 

incrs  but  tlie  weekly  meetings  for  consultation,  from  "wliicli  lie  has 
often  gone  Lome,  with  twenty  and  thirty  letters  to  answer — some  of 
them  short  business  letters,  others  requiring  deliberation,  and  the 
exercise  of  nice  discernment  and  comprehensive  judgment.  Often 
has  midnight  found  him  still  driving  his  pen  in  behalf  of  the  so- 
ciety ;  and  after  this  he  was  very  likely  to  run  down  to  the  post- 
office,  and  deliver  his  letters,  in  readiness  for  the  morning  mail. 

Thirdly,  Mr.  Sommers  has  been  an  active  upholder  of  Sabbath- 
schools.  He  and  Mr.,  now  Rev.  Joseph  Griffiths,  commenced  the 
first  Sunday-school  in  America,  upon  the  plan  of  Robert  Raikes,  in 
July,  1810,  in  Division-street.  This  is  a  fact  not  only  interesting 
in  itself,  but  a  pleasing  evidence  of  the  pioneer  spirit  of  the  man — his 
readiness  to  work  when  work  was  to  be  done,  and  to  originate  work 
where  it  was  needed.  And  fourthly,  Mr.  Sommers  was  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  American  Baptist  Home  Missionary  Society,  and  has 
been  an  important  instrument  of  its  success.  He  also  participated  in 
the  organization  of  the  American  Baptist  Triennial  Convention.  He 
has  also  labored  more  or  less  in  connection  with  the  Society  for 
Meliorating  the  Condition  of  the  Jews,  the  American  Seaman's 
Friend  Society,  American  Education  Society,  and  Christian  Alliance  ; 
of  all  which  he  is  a  member. 

But  we  have  yet  to  speak,  under  the  fifth  head,  of  what  has  prob- 
ably been  the  most  laborious  work  of  the  life  of  Mr.  Sommers.  We 
refer  to  his  connection  with  the  American  Tract  Society.  Mr.  Som- 
mers was  an  active  instrument  in  bringing  this  Society  into  existence  ; 
nursed  it  in  its  infancy,  cherished  its  first  feeble  life,  guided  its  youth- 
ful steps,  and  controlled  its  manher  ongoings.  In  a  public  meeting 
in  New  York,  he  made  a  motion  for  its  organization,  and  was  ap- 
pointed chairman  of  the  Committee,  being  associated  with  Arthur 
Tappan  and  James  C.  Bliss,  whose  duty  it  was  to  correspond  with 
the  Tract  Society  then  existing  at  Boston,  with  reference  to  the  for- 
mation of  a  National  Society.  He  wrote  the  first  letter  in  which  the 
proposal  was  made,  and  which  resulted  in  the  absorption  of  the  Bos- 
ton Society  into  the  American  Tract  Society.  He  was  also  on  thd 
Committee  in  connection  with  Arthur  Tappan  and  William  A.  Hal- 
lock,  to  which  was  allotted  the  responsible  task  of  dra-vying  up  a  Con- 


AMERICAN  TEACT  SOCIETY.  263 

stitution.  It  was  tlie  pen  of  Mr.  Sommers  which  wrote  that  article  id 
the  Constitution  which  gives  the  Society  its  distinctive  character,  and 
which  has  since  occasioned  some  discussion.  It  reads  as  follows : 
"  To  promote  in  the  highest  degree  the  objects  of  this  Society,  the 
Officers  and  Directors  shall  be  elected  from  different  denominations 
of  Christians ;  the  Publishing  Committee  shall  contain  no  two  mem- 
bers from  the  same  ecclesiastical  connection  ;  and  no  Tract  shall  be 
published  to  which  any  member  of  that  Committee  shall  object" 
It  will  be  observed  that  this  article  gives  the  power  of  veto  to  each 
member  of  the  Examining  Committee,  and  through  him,  as  their 
representative,  to  each  of  the  six  denominations  embraced  in  the 
Society. 

On  the  11th  of  May,  1825,  the  Society  was  organized,  and  the 
following  clergymen  were  chosen  for  the  Examining  Committee : 
Dr.  Milnor,  of  the  Episcopal  Church ;  Dr.  Spring,  of  the  Presby- 
terian ;  Dr.  Knox,  of  the  Dutch  Reformed ;  Dr.  Edwards,  of  the 
Congregational ;  the  eloquent  Summerfield,  of  the  Methodist ;  and 
Mr.  Sommers,  of  the  Baptist  Church.  On  this  Committee  Mr.  Som- 
mers served  until  the  annual  meeting  in  1849,  a  period  of  twenty- 
three  years,  when  he  tendered  his  resignation,  and  Wm.  R.  Wil- 
liams, D.  D.,  was,  at  his  request,  elected  to  fill  his  place.  To  this 
Committee  is  referred  all  the  works  presented  for  publication  by  the 
Society.  It  has  the  deciding  power.  Each  member  of  the  Com- 
mittee privately  examines  the  prepared  work.  It  is  then  discussed 
by  all  in  a  meeting  of  the  Committee,  and  voted  upon.  Now  when 
it  is  remembered  that  the  Society  has  issued  one  thousand  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  publications,  of  which  two  hundred  and  fifty  are  vol- 
mes,  each  one  of  which  had  to  be  carefully  examined — that  many 
were  examined  which  were  rejected — and  that  more  than  two  thou- 
sand publications  have  been  sanctioned  to  be  printed  in  foreign  lands, 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  position  was  one  of  no  ordinary  toil.  But 
to  Mr.  Sommers  it  was  specially  laborious.  He  was  the  only  Bap- 
tist of  the  Committee.  He  had  not  only  to  look  out  for  heresy 
and  weaknesses  equally  with  the  others,  but  also  to  guard,  with 
Argus  eye,  any  subtle  attack  on  the  peculiar  tenet  of  his  de- 
nomination.     He  was  placed  there  by  his  sect   to  perform  that 


26-i  CHARLES    G.    SOMMEES. 

duty  ;  lie  was  amenable  to  them ;  they  trusted  their  interests  to 
him ;  and  if  any  thing  should  run  the  gauntlet  of  his  scrutiny, 
which  militated  against  their  views,  upon  him  would  fall  the 
opprobrium.  Moreover,  it  so  happened  that  most  of  the  books 
published  by  the  Society  are  written  by  Paedo-Baptists,  and  hence 
every  presented  work  had  to  be  examined  by  Mr.  Sommers  with  the 
scrutiny  which  an  author  bestows  in  reading  "  proof."  And  when 
we  know  that  Mr.  Sommers  performed  this  service  for  twenty-three 
years  without  any  pecuniary  compensation,  for  which  an  old  mem- 
ber of  the  Society  remarked  that  he  deserved  a  handsome  annual 
support ;  that  the  six  years'  service  under  the  American  and  Foreign 
Bible  Society  was  undertaken  because  no  one  w^as  found  who  could 
afford  to  do  it  without  a  compensation ;  that  all  his  labor  for  be- 
nevolent societies  has  been  gratuitously  rendered,  and  accomplished 
in  addition  to  the  demands  of  a  profession,  and  to  the  duties  of  a 
father,  a  friend,  and  a  citizen,  w^e  may  not  hesitate  in  our  encomium. 

Since  reference  has  been  made  to  the  Tract  Society,  it  may  be 
added,  as  matter  of  history,  that  although  not  crippled  in  its  opera- 
tions, it  is  at  present  disturbed  in  the  long-established  peace  of  its 
administration.  "  The  Slavery  Question,"  which  will  find  its  way 
into  every  thing  in  this  country,  whether  politics,  religion,  or  trade ; 
not  leaving  untouched  any  institution,  either  out  of  regard  to  its  sa- 
credness,  or  aversion  to  its  profaneness,  or  contempt  for  its  humble- 
ness; a  troublous  creature  wherever  it  goes — rending  churches, 
splitting  political  parties,  disturbing  colleges,  agitating  benevolent 
societies,  dividing  families,  alienating  friends,  dismissing  ministers, 
exciting  mobs,  burning  houses,  manufacturing  Sharp's  rifles,  elect- 
ing Presidents,  disappointing  aspirants,  filling  newspapers ;  always 
restless,  agitating,  vital;  which  no  pulpit  or  parlor  seems  strong 
enough  to  bar  out ;  no  government  able  to  crush  it ;  no  organization 
prudent  enough  to  keep  out — this  "  Question  of  Slavery"  has  at  last 
wormed  its  way  into  the  precincts  of  the  Tract  Society. 

It  is  not  proposed  to  describe  all  the  sharp  points  which  "The 
Slavery  Question"  presents  to  the  Tract  Society,  but  simply  to  state 
the  leading  feature,  which  is,  that  a  demand  is  made  upon  the  So- 
ciety that  it  shall  meet  this  question  by  uttering  its  influential  and 


SUMMARY.  265 

wide-spread  voice  against  some  of  the  acknowledged  sins  of  Southern 
slavery,  such  as  the  separation  of  families,  the  withholding  of  the 
Bible,  (fee.  On  the  other  hand,  the  administration  of  the  Tract  So- 
ciety are  anxious  to  avoid  a  question  which  is  so  notoriously  dis- 
turbing and  explosive  in  its  character,  lest  it  should  interfere  with 
Avhat  is  esteemed  the  legitimate  and  proper  business  of  the  Society, 
namely,  the  distribution  of  such  publications  of  evangelical  truth  as 
have  hitherto  been  distributed,  in  which  Southern  slavery  is  not  al- 
luded to  specifically.  How  to  rid  itself  of  the  intruder  is  now  the 
question  before  the  Society.  The  administration  propose  to  smother 
it  to  death.  Past  efforts  of  others  in  that  direction,  would  seem  to 
be  discouraging. 

Mr.  Sommers  has  been  led  to  an  extensive  investigation  of  the 
controverted  subject  of  Baptism  ;  and  much  time  has  been  employed 
in  defence  of  the  distinctive  tenets  of  the  denomination,  either  in  a 
private  way,  or  through  the  public  press.  He  has  also  edited  a 
volume  of  Psalms  and  Hymns,  and  a  work  of  three  volumes,  entitled 
"  The  Baptist  Library,  or  Selections  of  Standard  Baptist  Writers," 
and  has  wiitten  a  Memoir  of  John  Stanford,  D.  D. 

In  1852,  he  received  the  title  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  from  Madison 
University.  He  is  preaching  now  in  the  church  in  Hammond - 
street,  formerly  occupied  by  the  Presbyterians,  to  which  his  congre- 
gation removed  from  Nassau-street  in  1851. 

"We  may  properly  sum  up  the  events  of  Dr.  Sommers's  professional 
life  by  saying,  that  he  has  accomplished  the  work  of  sixty-three 
years, — forty  pastoral  years,  twenty-three  Tract  Society  years,  and 
twelve  Bible  Society  years,  just  the  years  of  his  life.  He  is  yet  in 
sound  health,  and  of  active  habits. 

We  wish  that  those  who  esteem  the  life  of  a  minister  to  be  such 
an  easy  Hfe  would  consider  the  facts  in  connection  with  Dr.  Som- 
mers, not  as  unusual,  for  they  are  not  so.  Many  a  minister  has 
worked  as  hard ;  in  some  respects,  many  have  worked  harder ;  be- 
cause Dr.  Sommers  has  not  been  led  to  endure  the  exhausting  expen- 
diture of  nervous  energy  incident  to  the  highest  gift  of  extempore 
power,  as  well  as  to  metaphysical  pursuits  or  historical  research. 
His  circumstances,  too,  have  been,  by  inheritance,  unusually  good. 


266  CHAKLES    G.    SOMMERS. 

But  the  facts  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  representation  of  the  work  done 
by  the  American  clergy.  Doubtless  there  are  scattered  instances  of 
inefficiency  and  negligence  ;  but,  as  a  class,  especially  in  the  coun- 
try, they  are  the  hardest-worked  and  poorest-paid  portion  of  the 
commimity.  Public  sentiment  is  such,  that  they  are  expected  to 
enlighten  the  ignorant,  deliver  Lyceum  lectures,  sympathize  with  all 
sorrows,  receive  all  confidences,  and  attend  all  funerals,  for  the  recom- 
pense of  words,  often  meager  at  that ;  while  performing  all  preaching 
and  pastoral  labor  for  the  most  economical  livelihood.  If  the  princi- 
ple of  the  Quakers  were  adopted,  we  should  have  nothing  to  say ; 
but  a  "  paid  ministry"  in  theory  and  an  unpaid  one  in  fact,  works 
badly  for  both  parties.  Either  the  official  duties  of  the  profession 
must  be  lessened,  and  thus  the  pastor  have  time  and  strength  to 
make  out  an  honest  living  in  some  secular  employment,  or  the  sal- 
aries must  be  increased.  We  doubt  whether  the  "  self-denial,"  in- 
sisted on  for  the  profession,  consists,  in  these  latter  days,  in  doing 
without  books,  newspapers,  quarterlies,  and  carpets.  Christian  self- 
denial  and  ministerial  consecration  can  be  seen  in  a  higher  and  truer 
sense,  even  more  difficult  and  more  testing,  with  which  suitable  sur- 
roundings do  not  interfere,  and  to  which  the  rack  and  wheel  of 
remorseless  debt  is  not  essential. 


**v., 


{^%S^   ^ 


/^^f^/^ 


c^ 


ORYILLE   DEWEY, 

THE    UNITARIAN    PREACHER. 


"  But  to  us  there  is  but  one  God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things, 
and  we  in  Him  ;  and  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  are  all  things,  and 
we  by  Him." 


Orville  Dewey  was  born  in  Sheffield,  Berkshire  county,  Mas- 
sachusetts, March  28th,  1794.  His  father  was  a  farmer,  occupying 
a  highly  respectable  position  as  a  citizen.  He  gave  his  son  all  the 
advantages  of  education  whicli  the  town  afforded,  and  sent  him,  at 
the  age  of  seventeen,  to  Williams  College,  in  the  same  county,  where 
he  connected  himself  with  the  Sophomore  class. 

This  institution  has  always  had  a  reputation,  perhaps  more  than 
any  college  in  New  England,  for  exerting  a  marked  religious  influ- 
ence upon  its  members.  It  has  been  distinguished  for  the  frequency  of 
its  Revivals.  A  class  never  graduates  without  coming  under  the 
power  of  one  such  experience.  We  refer  to  this  as  a  suitable  preface 
to  an  anecdote,  which  we  are  tempted  to  relate,  as  evidence  of  the 
esteem  which  Orville  Dewey  had  won  in  his  boyhood  by  manifesta- 
tion of  uncommon  character. 

There  was  living  at  that  time  in  Sheffield  a  man  who  may  be 
considered  as  the  representative  of  a  class  numerous  at  that  period — 
men  of  strong  minds,  independent  views,  subtle  insight,  and  keen 
wit ;  men  abhorring  cant,  hypocrisy,  and  shams  of  all  kinds  ;  hold- 
ing mere  "book-knowledge"  in  slight  repute;  shrewd  enough  to 
detect  errors  in  the  Christian  system,  but  not  to  dispel  them ;  too 
proud  to  believe  what  was  not  understood,  and  too  honest  to  pretend 
a  belief  which  was  not  held ;  and  who  thus  were,  as  a  matter  of 


268  ORVILLE   DEWEY. 

course,  at  first  secretly  skeptical,  and  at  last  openly  infidel.  He  was 
also  a  man  of  unusual  vigor  of  intellect,  and  of  remarkable  mathe- 
matical genius. 

There  were  other  men  in  SheflSeld  of  kindred  sentiments,  whose 
habit  it  was  to  meet  on  every  Sabbath  evening  at  the  village  inn, 
where  sarcastic  criticism  of  religious  subjects  and  of  "professors" 
was  not,  we  apprehend,  strictly  avoided.  At  such  times,  as  indeed 
everywhere,  the  old  man  guided,  inspired,  and  ruled.  He  was  the 
life  of  the  company.  Temperate  in  his  habits,  he  established  su- 
premacy both  by  sobriety  and  by  wit. 

Orville  Dewey  had  been  his  pupil,  in  a  select  class,  pursuing  the 
higher  mathematics,  and  had  unconsciously  gained  a  strange  influ- 
ence over  the  independent  skeptic.  The  sagacious  insight  of  the 
elder  detected  the  intellect  and  read  the  character  of  the  younger. 
So  when  the  young  pupil  was  leaving  for  college,  his  aged  friend,  as 
he  came  to  bid  him  good-bye,  said,  "  Now,  Orville,  you  are  going  to 
college,  and,  hke  all  the  rest  of  them,  you'll  get  converted  there : 
and  when  you  do,  I  want  you  to  wi'ite  me  a  letter  and  tell  me  all 
about  it,  for  I  can  trust  youV  The  prophecy  was  fulfilled,  and  the 
requested  letter  was  written.  The  old  man  read  it,  and  read  it 
again.  Tlie  Sabbath  came,  and  he  was  at  church  all  day,  a  place 
unknown  to  him  for  a  score  of  years.  The  scornful  jest  was  never 
more  heard  from  his  lips.  It  was  evident  that  the  picture  which  he 
had  received,  of  a  sincere  religious  experience,  made  a  deep  and 
abiding  impression  on  him  :  he  often  spoke  of  it  to  his  friends,  and 
he  kept  the  letter  by  him  till  his  last  sickness,  which  came  upon  him 
not  long  after.  With  the  unbending  sternness  of  one  of  the  olden 
time,  he  never  frankly  revealed  his  feelings ;  but  that  worship  which 
he  had  neglected,  and  which  the  infirmities  of  age  permitted  him  to 
visit  but  little  thereafter,  he  now  urged  on  others,  saying,  "  Go  to 
church,  not  so  much  to  hear  the  sermon,  as  to  worship  God." 
Who  would  not  yield  to  the  belief  that  when  he  passed  the  portals 
of  the  eternal  world,  he  left  all  error  behind,  and  entered  that  realm 
of  light,  where  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  dispelled  the  darkness  of 
skepticism,  and  the  strong-winged  spirit  now  revels  through  the 
heavenly  expanse  of  illimitable  Truth  ? 


COLLEGE   EXPEEIENCES.  269 

At  college  Mr.  Dewey  took  a  high  position ;  notwithstanding  that, 
during  the  latter  part  of  his  Junior  year,  he  was  attacked  with  the 
measles,  which,  settling  in  his  eyes,  incapacitated  them  for  reading. 
But,  undiscouraged  by  this,  he  went  forward  with  his  class,  having 
all  the  text-books  of  the  Senior  year  read  to  him  by  his  room- 
mate. He  was  thorough  in  all  his  studies.  Rhetoric  he  culti- 
vated with  uncommon  perseverance.  He  was  critical  and  severe 
upon  his  own  literary  productions,  revising  and  pruning,  with  a 
fidelity  which  gained  him  pre-eminence  in  his  class,  as  already  at- 
taining a  style  of  classic  strength  and  purity.  In  the  year  1814  he 
was  graduated  with  the  highest  honors  of  the  institution,  having  re- 
ceived the  appointment  of  Valedictorian. 

Mr.  Dewey  had  been  educated  by  a  devout  and  loving  New  Eng- 
land mother,  and  coming  under  the  religious  influences  of  Williams 
College,  to  which  reference  has  been  made,  the  religious  experience, 
of  which  he  wrote  to  his  aged  master,  was  unusually  marked  and 
thorough  in  its  character.  He  entered  on  the  path  of  duty  with  the 
honesty  and  the  energy  which  characterized  all  his  undertakings. 
That  path  he  deemed  a  thorny  one,  with  few  flowers  to  beguile,  and 
few  resting-places  to  relieve.  By  natural  bias,  or  by  influences 
about  him,  he  came  to  regard  the  Christian  hfe  as  one  of  self-denial, 
which  bordered  on  penance,  and  of  discipline  which  savored  of  expia- 
tion. "  We  are  strangers  and  pilgrims  here,"  was  his  actuating  motto, 
unbalanced  by  its  companion,  "  Rejoice  always ;  and  again  I  say. 
Rejoice."  He  looked  forth  upon  the  world,  and  saw  it  as  a  place  of 
struggle,  self-denial,  warfare ;  in  preparation  for  one  of  rest,  joy,  tri- 
umph. 

With  this  religious  character  he  came  away  from  college ;  but  as 
the  affection  of  his  eyes  made  reading  impossible,  two  years  elapsed 
before  he  entered  Andover  Theological  Seminary  to  pursue  his 
professional  studies.  A  portion  of  this  interval  was  spent  in  teach- 
ing a  school  in  ShefiSeld,  and  the  remainder  in  a  book-store  in  New 
York.  But  at  Andover,  as  well  as  during  the  last  year  at  college, 
he  was  dependent  upon  a  reader  for  his  information  from  books. 

Wliile  at  Andover  he  was  led  to  investigate  a  religious  belief, 
based  upon  a  diflferent  philosophy  from  that  which  had  swayed  his 


270  ORVILLE   DEWET. 

previous  life, — a  philosophy  which  we  do  not  care  here  to  discuss, 
but  of  which  it  is  pertinent  to  our  narrative  to  say  so  much  as  this, 
that  it  allows  all  pursuits  which  will  promote  true  happiness  or  ex- 
cite innocent  recreation ;  and  that  it  inculcates  the  use  of  all  means 
calculated  to  refine  or  elevate.  Moreover,  it  makes  less  of  religious 
dogmas,  less  of  creeds,  less  of  intellectual  belief,  and  more  of  practi- 
cal outworking  benevolence — more  of  controlling  sjrmpathies,  affec- 
tions, and  impulses.  This  religious  belief  was  comparatively  a  uew 
thing  at  that  time,  or  it  was  newly  set  forth  in  the  form  of  an  organ- 
ization, and  newly  embodied  in  a  Church.  It  was  the  reaction  in 
New  England,  perhaps  the  excessive  reaction  of  the  religious  nature 
of  some,  against  what  they  esteemed  the  undue  importance  demanded 
for  a  particular  creed  by  the  dominant  Church.  And  hence  they 
dwelt  upon  the  assertions,  that  an  intellectual  belief  was  made  the 
key  of  entrance  to  the  Church  ;  that  daily  life  inevitably  dropped  to 
a  secondary  esteem ;  and  that  "  professor  of  religion"  had  ceased  to 
be  a  synonym  for  an  honorable,  charitable,  noble,  and  loving  man ; 
and,  indeed,  that,  in  some  places,  it  had  come  to  be  used  as  a  term 
of  reproach,  indicating  a  bigotry  clothed  in  sanctimonious  manner, 
consecrated  by  long  prayers,  not  always  disconnected  from  excessive 
greed  and  repulsive  bearing,  and  mostly  manifest  in  strict  attendance 
upon  church  meetings,  and  the  conscientious  discountenancing  of  all 
recreations. 

In  the  minds  of  those  who  thus  regarded  the  religious  tendencies 
of  the  times,  it  was  inevitable  that  a  reaction  should  take  place ; 
and  those  would  be  naturally  the  reflective,  the  genial,  the  loving, 
the  aspiring,  and  the  sympathetic.  We  are  only  giving  the  facts 
as  they  worked  out,  patent  to  the  eyes  of  all.  We  would  not  be  un- 
derstood as  saying  that  recreations — a  matter  of  comparatively  slight 
importance — or  that  the  mere  undue  exaltation  of  a  creed,  without 
reference  to  important  elements  of  that  creed,  constituted  all  the 
disturbing  and  dividing  forces  of  the  religious  schism  of  that  day. 
We  do  not  aflfect  to  touch  the  fundamental  differences  of  philosophy 
in  the  two  beliefs ;  but  we  simply  say,  that  here  was  a  new  view  of 
religion,  representing  it  as  a  life,  and  not  a  creed, — presented  to  one 
of  great  conscientiousness  and  practical  beneficence,  and  earnest  re- 


CHANGE   OF    VIEWS.  271 

ligious  experience ;  here  was  a  new  \\qw  of  life,  representing  it  as  a 
period  of  healthful  development,  and  not  of  harassing  discipline, — 
presented  to  one  of  keen  sensibilities,  alive  to  all  that  is  beautiful  in 
nature,  all  that  is  glorious  in  art,  all  that  is  harmonious  in  music, 
all  that  is  fascinating  in  hterature,  all  that  is  attractive  in  social  life ; 
here  was  a  new  faith,  purporting  to  be  free  from  the  heavy  burdens  of 
established  dogmas,  to  be  more  liberal,  more  vital,  more  elastic,  more 
rational — presented  to  one  whose  mental  independence  demanded 
as  a  prerequisite  to  Belief,  personal  conviction  rather  than  hereditary 
authority;  whose  tendencies  were  progressive  and  forth-reaching; 
whose  soul  was  outbursting  with  life,  and  whose  Faith  must  dwell 
in  unity  with  Reason ; — and  this  new  view  of  rehgion,  this  new  view 
of  life,  this  new  faith,  presented  by  a  Channing. 


CHANGE    OF   VIEWS, 

He  considers  them.  He  makes  them  the  subject  of  thorough  inves- 
tigation. The  time  has  come  for  him  to  exchange  the  discussions 
and  accretions  of  student-life  for  the  settled  convictions  and  decided 
enforcements  of  the  pulpit.  But  he  is  not  ready.  The  season  of  in- 
quiries and  doubts  and  struggles  is  yet  upon  him.  He  cannot  appear 
before  Reverend  Fathers  for  ordination.  He  preaches  eight  months 
as  an  agent  of  the  American  Education  Society,  still  cautiously  feel- 
ing his  way  in  these  new  paths  of  theology.  Not  fully  satisfied  yet ; 
with  old  associations,  established  forms  of  theology,  and  sacred 
ties  binding  him  to  the  dominant  faith,  he  announces  to  friends  his 
indecision,  and  seeks  in  the  retirement  of  Gloucester,  a  little  town  of 
Eastern  Massachusetts,  the  year  of  quiet  thought  which  his  position 
demands.  Here  was  a  church  who  received  him  as  a  temporary 
pastor,  after  a  candid  explanation  of  his  peculiar  status.  Here, 
isolated  from  fiiends,  from  outside  influences,  from  the  world,  he 
worked  out  the  problem  of  his  religious  faith,  and  became  an  Uni- 
tarian. 

In  this  change  of  sentiment  and  of  association  we  have  no  doubt  that 
he  acted  with  the  conscientiousness  and  disregard  of  consequences 


272  OEVILLE    DEWEY. 

which  had  guided  him  in  the  previous  experiences  of  his  Christian 
life.  He  was  as  honest  and  as  sincere  now  as  when  in  college  under 
a  deep  sense  of  the  infinite  responsibilities  of  an  accountable  and 
immortal  being — he  felt  the  danger  of  all  pleasure,  and  disregarded 
all  worldly  enjoyments.  "We  know  that  in  the  change  he  broke 
away  from  all  that  is  calculated  to  bind  a  man  to  wonted  courses  of 
action.  He  knew  that  he  was  approaching  that  which  a  sensitive 
mind  starts  quickest  at — the  possibility  of  sacrificing  the  good 
opinion  of  old  friends,  of  class-mates,  and  of  teachers.  At  that  time 
the  separation  between  the  Orthodox  and  the  Unitarian  was  a  rift, 
broad  and  deep,  across  which  no  bridge  of  a  universal  Christian 
fellowship,  based  upon  heart-sympathies,  had,  as  yet,  been  thrown. 
The  chasm  opened  between  him  and  his  friends.  On  one  side  stood 
college  mates  and  seminary  companions  and  teachers  and  relatives, 
together  with  brilliant  prospects  and  promotion  and  support  and 
competence ;  and  on  the  other  stood  himself — alone,  literally  alone. 
It  was  as  if,  at  one  moment,  supported  by  ten  thousand  strong,  mys- 
terious, social  cords,  and  the  next  moment  all  these  cut  in  twain, 
and  the  man  is,  to  use  the  expressive  phrase,  dropped.  He  suffered 
from  estrangement,  from  coldness,  from  rupture  of  correspondence, 
from  aversion,  as  any  man  of  strong  social  affections  would  suffer. 
And  after  months  of  this  isolated  life,  impelled  by  one  of  those  over- 
powering waves  of  feeling  in  which  an  ocean  of  past  associations 
seems  to  concentrate  its  power  in  one  breaking  surge,  he  wrote  to 
a  class-mate  (who  afterwards  became  a  minister  of  some  distinction, 
and  died  two  years  ago),  "  Come  and  see  me.  I  am  all  alone.  I 
must  have  sjTnpathy.  Let  us  talk  together  once  more.  Come  ;  I 
am  desolate."  And  received  for  an  answer,  "  I  cannot ;  it  is  a  crime 
worse  than  murder  to  doubt  as  you  do."  In  his  sermon  "  On  the 
Character  and  Writings  of  Channing,"  he  uses  these  words,  in  which 
we  detect  an  allusion  to  personal  experience  : 

"  It  is  no  ordinary  task  to  stand  up  against  the  most  cherished 
rehgious  ideas  of  a  whole  people.  It  involves  sacrifices  and  trials, 
which  those  only  who  have  shared  in  the  undertaking  can  under- 
stand. It  is  one  thing  to  be  welcomed  on  every  side ;  it  is  another 
thing  to  be,  on  every  hand,  repelled  with  horror." 


DR.    CHANNING.  273 

His  character,  as  a  man,  and  as  a  religious  man,  was  not  essen- 
tially changed  by  this  change  of  views.  It  was  modified  in  some 
measure,  but  only  so  far  as  would  result  from  the  wider  range  he 
allowed  his  mind.  He  gave  time  to  the  cultivation  of  a  natural 
taste  for  the  fine  arts,  a  love  for  nature,  and  a  passion  for  literature. 
But  withal  he  was  the  same  religious-minded,  devout,  upright 
man.  Though  the  surface  of  his  being  had  been  somewhat  shifted, 
the  firm  substrata  remained  unmoved.  No  influences  rocked  or 
started  that.  However  much  his  theological  views  may  be  liked  or 
disliked,  no  one  can  doubt  the  firm  foundation  of  his  piety.  It  was 
before  his  espousal  of  Unitarianism  that  he  first  heard  Dr.  Channing 
from  the  pulpit.  The  effect  upon  himself  he  describes  in  the  follow- 
ing words : 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  effect  upon  me,  of  the  first  sermon  I  ever 
heard  from  him.  Shall  I  confess,  too,  that,  holding  then  a  faith 
somewhat  different  from  his,  I  listened  to  him  with  a  certain  degree 
of  distrust  and  prejudice  ?  These  barriers,  however,  soon  gave  way ; 
and  such  was  the  effect  of  the  simj^le  and  heart-touching  truths  and 
tones  which  fell  from  his  lips,  that  it  would  have  been  a  relief  to 
me  to  have  bowed  my  head,  and  to  have  wept  without  restraint, 
throughout  the  whole  service.  And  yet  I  did  not  weep ;  for  there 
was  something  in  that  impression  too  solemn  and  deep  for  tears.  I 
claim  perfection  for  nothing  human ;  and,  perhaps,  my  idea  of  this 
kind  of  communication  goes  beyond  any  thing  I  have  ever  heard. 
No  words  ever  realized  it  but  those  calm  and  solemn  words  of  Jesus 
Christ,  at  which  the  heart  stands  still  to  listen ;  and  which  it  is 
wonderful  that  anybody  dares  ever  to  dilute  into  prolix  comments. 
But  certainly  no  preaching  that  I  have  heard  has  come  so  near,  in 
this  respect,  to  the  Model  in  my  mind — I  say  not  irreverently,  the 
great  Model — as  the  preaching  of  Channing." 

K  we  take  into  view  the  uncommon  promise  which  Mr.  Dewey's 
academical  life  afforded,  we  shall  not  wonder  at  the  sensation  pro- 
duced in  the  religious  community  by  the  change  in  his  views.  Be- 
sides, he  was  already  known  by  his  preaching,  having  acted  as  an 
agent  of  the  American  Education  Society  in  Massachusetts;  and 
thus  having  preached  in  a  number  of  Orthodox  churches.     The 

18 


274  OKYILLE    DEWEY. 

sect  of  liis  adoption  rejoiced.  The  one  of  bis  desertion  mourned. 
A  few  of  the  former  boasted.  A  few  of  the  latter  reviled.  His 
personal  friends  discussed  and  labored  with  him.  These  discus- 
sions he  did  not  avoid,  till  they  were  deemed  by  himself,  and  all, 
superfluous. 

After  the  year  at  Gloucester,  Mr.  Dewey  became  a  temporary 
assistant  of  Dr.  Channing  in  Boston.  He  continued  at  this  post  for 
two  years,  during  the  second  of  which  Dr.  Channing  was  in  Eiu-ope. 
In  the  year  1823  he  received  and  accepted  a  call  to  become  the 
pastor  of  a  Unitarian  church  in  New  Bedford,  where  he  remained 
ten  years.  This  connection  was  very  delightful.  He  says  of  it  him- 
self that  he  felt  in  it  a  "  satisfaction  not  marred  by  one  moment's 
disagreement,  nor  by  the  altered  eye  of  one  individual,  during  the 
ten  years'  continuance  of  that  most  delicate  and  affecting  relation- 
ship." 

During  the  first  year  at  New  Bedford,  the  ailment  began  fi*om 
which  he  has  suffered  more  or  less  ever  since  ;  a  morbid  sensitive- 
ness of  brain,  induced  by  excessive  labor,  at  times  requiring  entire 
repose,  and  always  limiting  the  amount  of  mental  work.  The  young 
man  entering  the  ministerial  profession  is  in  one  respect  unfortunate. 
Unlike  the  lawyer  or  the  physician,  he  begins  with  a  full  practice,  ere 
tissues  have  hardened  into  muscle  and  sinew,  and  experience  has 
imparted  its  relieving  facility.  And  this  is  a  noteworthy  reason  why 
more  young  clergymen  "  break  down"  than  young  men  of  other  pro- 
fessions. And  at  New  Bedford  Mr.  Dewey  had  not  only  the  ordinary 
burdens  of  a  large  parish,  but  the  fact  that  no  pastor  of  his  denomi- 
nation lived  within  thirty  miles,  before  the  era  of  railroads,  cut  him 
off  from  the  relief  of  exchange,  so  that  for  ten  months  in  succession 
he  preached,  without  omission,  in  his  own  pulpit.  Besides  this,  he 
was  tempted  into  other  fields  of  labor  during  this  first  year — writing 
for  the  press,  lecturing,  pioneer  work  for  the  new  denomination,  &c. 
The  pastoral  duties,  also — those  of  visiting  the  sick  and  the  well,  of 
attending  funerals,  of  sympathizing  with  the  afflicted,  of  "  rejoicing 
with  those  who  do  rejoice,  and  weeping  with  those  that  Aveep" — 
have  always  made  heavy  draughts  on  his  vital  forces,  because  of  his 
peculiar  facility  in  putting  himself  heart  and  soul  into  the  experi- 


275 

ences  of  otliers.  If  a  child  sickened,  and  drooped,  and  died,  it  be- 
came, as  it  were,  his  own  child  ;  if  a  member  of  his  chm-ch  was  be- 
reaved of  a  brother,  he,  too,  was  bereaved.  And  so  a  compact,  vig- 
orous constitution  began  to  give  way,  and  it  was  not  long  ere  he 
found  himself  incapable  of  brain-work  on  Monday  during  the  reac- 
tion after  the  excitement  of  preaching,  and  then  the  brain-prostra- 
tion began  to  creep  over  Tuesday,  and  Wednesday,  and  Thursday, 
till  it  reached  Saturday  night,  and  then  he  stopped  work  and  went 
to  Europe ;  in  June,  1833.  There  he  consulted  eminent  physicians, 
who  prescribed  rest,  spent  a  year,  and  was  much  reinvigorated. 
After  his  return,  he  published  some  results  of  his  travels,  in  a  vol- 
ume entitled  "  The  Old  World  and  the  New."  We  like  this  book 
not  only  for  its  descriptions  of  places,  things,  and  men,  but  especially 
for  its  reflections  ;  by  which  we  do  not  mean  the  croakings  over  the 
dishonesty  of  rulers,  the  downfall  of  nations,  and  the  destruction  of 
antiques ;  but  we  mean  those  thoughts,  racy  or  reverent,  serious  or 
statistical,  philosophical  or  playful,  which  will  be  suggested  by  any 
thing  that  a  thoughtful  man  sees.  We  have  in  this  book  some  of 
the  best  criticisms  on  painting,  on  music,  on  sculpture,  on  men,  and 
things,  and  places,  and,  more  than  all,  views  of  society,  of  govern- 
ment, of  the  tendency  of  monarchical  institutions,  and  of  the  condi- 
tion of  the  European  people,  which  are  sound,  comprehensive,  and 
deeply  interesting.  There  is,  too,  a  comparison  of  the  United  States 
with  Europe,  which,  while  it  is  greatly  in  our  favor,  cannot  but 
commend  itself  to  our  intelligent  neighbors  abroad.  Dr.  Dewey,  by  his 
presence  and  his  writings,  has  done  much  to  impart  juster  views  of 
the  American  character  and  of  republican  institutions.  The  follow- 
ing extract  we  commend  to  women  : 

"  I  must  add  a  word  upon  our  modes  of  dress.  With  a  climate 
twice  as  tiying  as  that  of  England,  we  are,  on  this  point,  twice  as 
negligent.  Whether  there  is  actual  violence  done  to  the  form  in 
the  absurd  attempt  to  make  it  genteel,  I  will  not  undertake  to  de- 
cide ;  but  certainly  the  bust  of  an  English  woman  shows  that  it 
never  was,  and  never  could  have  been,  subjected  to  those  awful  pro- 
cesses of  girting,  which  must  have  been  applied  in  many  cases  to 
produce  what  we  see  among  us.     At  any  rate,  the  fearful  preva- 


276  ORVrLLE    DEWEY. 

lence  of  consumption  in  our  countiy  is  an  admonition  of  our  duty 
on  this  subject  of  dress,  that  ought  not  to  be  disregarded.  And  es- 
pecially in  a  country  where  no  limits  are  set  to  fashionable  imita- 
tion— where  a  man  is  very  liable  to  mistake  upon  the  door-step  his 
domestic  for  his  wife  or  daughter — this  is  a  subject  that  comes  home 
to  every  family,  whether  low  or  high,  and  comes,  too,  in  the  most 
palpable  forms  of  interest — in  the  suffering  and  expense  of  sickness, 
and  in  the  bitterness  of  bereavement. 

"  But  consumption  and  death  are  not  the  only  alarming  forms  in 
which  the  subject  of  female  health  presents  itself.  Let  any  one 
look  at  the  women  of  America,  and,  with  all  their  far-famed  deli- 
cacy and  beauty,  let  him  tell  me  what  he  thinks  of  them,  as  the 
mothers  of  future  generations.  What  are  the  prospects  of  the  na- 
tional constitution  and  health,  as  they  are  to  be  read  in  the  thou- 
sands of  pale  faces  and  slender  forms,  unfit  for  the  duties  of  mater- 
nity, which  we  see  around  us  ?  Let  any  one  go  with  this  question 
to  their  nurseries,  and  he  will  see  the  beginning  of  things  to  come. 
Let  him  go  to  the  schools,  and  he  will  turn  over  another  leaf  in  the 
book  of  prophecy.  Oh !  for  a  sight,  at  home,  of  the  beautiful 
groups  of  children  that  are  constantly  seen  in  England,  with  their 
rosy  cheeks  and  robust  frames  !" 

Much  truth  is  expressed  in  the  following  criticism  on  the  union 
of  Church  and  State  : 

"  But  it  is  not  enough  to  say,  that  religion  does  not  want  the 
State  ;  it  is  injured  by  the  State.  It  always  suffers  from  its  union 
with  the  State.  State  patronage  tends  to  give  religion  a  mercenary 
and  a  mechanical  character.  Religion  is  liable  to  lose  something  of 
its  \'ital  character,  when  it  is  made  to  depend  on  a  compulsory  sup- 
port. And  it  ceases,  moreover,  to  be  a  common  interest,  when  its 
affairs  are  managed,  when  its  institutions  are  regulated,  and  its  offi- 
cers are  appointed,  by  a  few." 

Read  the  following  description  of  sea-sickness  : 

"  I  wonder  that  nobody  has  talked,  or  written,  or  sung,  or  satir- 
ized, about  this  horrible  discomfort  of  a  sea-voyage.  It  is  said  that 
Cato  repented  only  of  three  things  during  his  life — '  to  have  gone 
by  sea  when  he  could  go  by  land,  to  have  passed  a  day  inactive, 


LOWELL   LFCTUEES.  277 

and  to  have  told  a  secret  to  his  wife.'  I  will  not  discuss  the  other 
points  with  the  old  stoic,  but  with  the  first  I  certainly  have  the 
most  perfect  sympathy.  It  is  not  sea-sickness  ;  I  have  had  none  of 
that ;  but  it  is  a  sickness  of  the  sea,  which  has  never,  that  I  know, 
been  described.  It  is  a  tremendous  ennui,  a  complete  inaptitude  to 
all  enjoyment,  a  total  inability  to  be  pleased  with  any  thing.  Noth- 
ing is  agreeable — neither  eating  nor  drinking,  nor  walking  nor  talk- 
ing, nor  reading  nor  writing ;  nor  even  is  going  to  sleep  an  agreeable 
process,  and  waking  is  perfect  misery.  I  am  speaking  of  my  own 
experience,  it  is  true,  and  others  find  a  happier  fortune  upon  the  sea; 
but,  I  believe  that  it  is  the  experience  of  a  class^  not  much  less  un- 
happy than  the  most  miserable  victims  of  sea-sickness." 

On  his  return  from  Europe,  he  was  settled  over  "The  Second 
Congregational  Unitarian  Society"  of  New  York,  which  at  present 
worships  in  "  The  Church  of  the  Messiah,"  in  Broadway. 

In  1842  he  again  went  abroad  for  his  health,  taking  his  family 
with  him,  consisting  of  his  wife,  two  daughters,  and  one  son.  He 
passed  two  years  in  France,  Italy,  Switzerland,  and  England. 

On  his  return  from  Europe,  Dr.  Dewey  resumed  his  duties  in  the 
Church  of  the  Messiah  ;  but  his  health  again  failing,  his  connection 
with  it  was  dissolved  in  1848.  Since  that  time  he  has  been  preach- 
ing occasionally:  one  winter  in  Albany,  for  the  upbuilding  of  a 
Unitarian  Society  there  ;  two  winters  in  Washington,  and  now  and 
then  in  New  York  and  Boston.  He  has  wi'itten,  also,  two  courses  of 
lectures  for  the  Lowell  Institute,  in  Boston :  one  on  the  "  Problem 
of  Human  Life  and  Destiny ;"  the  other  on  the  "  Education  of  the 
Human  Race."  The  first  course  was  delivered,  with  marked  ac- 
ceptance, in  Boston  ;  twice  in  New  York  ;  in  Brooklyn,  New  Bedford, 
Baltimore,  Washington,  Charleston,  St.  Louis,  Louisville,  Nash\411e, 
Madison,  Cincinnati,  and  Sheffield.  The  second  course  was  deliv- 
ered first  at  the  Lowell  Institute,  in  the  latter  part  of  1855.  The 
first  course  has  been  so  generally  discussed,  that  we  forbear  to  add 
our  mite.  The  second  course  is,  perhaps,  of  a  more  popular  cast, 
presenting  the  effective  instruments  in  the  education  of  the  race,  as 
well  as  what  the  education  consists  in.  This,  of  course,  leads  on  to 
biography  and  criticism  of  character,  in  which  Dr.  Dewey  succeeds 


278  ORVILLE   DEWEY. 

in  producing  the  happiest  effect,  as  well  as  profound  impression. 
Moses  as  the  lawgiver  ;  Paul  as  the  preacher ;  Scott  and  Thackeray 
and  Carlyle  and  others  as  authors ;  together  with  representative  art- 
ists, are  portrayed  with  the  power  of  a  generous  appreciation.  The 
lectui-e  on  Paul  the  Preacher  is  the  mastei*piece  of  the  course ;  for 
in  this  the  sympathies  of  a  life-work  were  the  inspiration. 

One  of  this  course  of  lectures  is  entitled  "  Liberty,"  which  Dr. 
Dewey  closes  with  these  w^ords  : 

"  Liberty,  gentlemen,  is  a  solemn  thing — a  welcome,  a  joyous,  a 
glorious  thing,  if  you  please ;  but  it  is  a  solemn  thing.  A  free  peo- 
ple must  be  a  thoughtful  people.  The  subjects  of  a  despot  may  be 
reckless — and  gay  if  they  can.  A  free  people  must  be  serious ;  for 
it  has  to  do  the  greatest  thing  that  ever  was  done  in  the  world — to 
govern  itself.  That  hour  in  human  life  is  most  serious,  when  it 
passes  from  parental  control,  into  fi'ee  manhood ;  then  must  the  man 
bind  the  righteous  law  upon  himself,  more  strongly  than  ever  father 
or  mother  bound  it  upon  him.  And  when  a  people  leaves  the  lead- 
ing-strings of  prescriptive  authority,  and  enters  upon  the  ground  of 
freedom,  that  ground  must  be  fenced  with  law ;  it  must  be  tilled 
with  wisdom ;  it  must  be  hallowed  with  prayer.  The  tribunal  of 
justice,  the  free  school,  the  holy  Church,  must  be  built  there,  to  in- 
trench, to  defend,  and  to  keep  the  sacred  heritage. 

"  Liberty,  I  repeat,  is  a  solemn  thing.  The  world,  up  to  this  time, 
has  regarded  it  as  a  boon — not  as  a  bond.  And  there  is  nothing,  I 
seriously  believe,  in  the  present  ciisis  of  human  affairs — there  is  no 
point  in  the  great  human  welfare,  on  which  men's  ideas  so  much 
need  to  be  cleared  up — to  be  advanced — to  be  raised  to  a  higher 
standard,  as  this  grand  and  terrible  responsibility  of  freedom. 

"  In  the  universe  there  is  no  trust  so  awful  as  moral  freedom  ;  and 
all  good  civil  freedom  depends  upon  the  use  of  that.  But  look  at  it. 
Around  every  human,  every  rational  being,  is  drawn  a  circle ;  the 
space  within  is  cleared  from  all  obstruction,  or,  at  least,  from  all  co- 
ercion ;  it  is  sacred  to  the  being  himself  who  stands  there  ;  it  is 
secured  and  consecrated  to  his  own  responsibility.  May  I  say  it — 
God  himself  does  not  penetrate  there  with  any  absolute,  any  coercive 
power !     He  compels  the  winds  and  waves  to  obey  Ilim  ;  He  com- 


COSIPEOMISE  MEASURES.  279 

pels  animal  instincts  to  obey  Him ;  but  He  does  not  compel  man  to 
obey.  That  sphere  He  leaves  free ;  He  brings  influences  to  bear  upon 
it ;  but  the  last,  final,  solemn,  infinite  question  between  right  and 
wrong.  He  leaves  to  man  himself.  Ah  !  instead  of  madly  delighting 
in  his  freedom,  I  could  imagine  a  man  to  protest,  to  complain,  to 
tremble  that  such  a  tremendous  prerogative  is  accorded  to  him. 
But  it  is  accorded  to  him ;  and  nothing  but  willing  obedience  can 
discharge  that  solemn  trust ;  nothing  but  a  heroism  greater  than 
that  which  fights  battles,  and  pours  out  its  blood  on  its  country's  al- 
tar— ^the  heroism  of  self-renunciation  and  self-control.  Come  that 
liberty !  I  invoke  it  with  all  the  ardor  of  the  poets  and  oratoi"s  of 
freedom ;  with  Spenser  and  Milton,  wath  Hampden  and  Sydney,  with 
Rienzi  and  Dante,  with  Hamilton  and  Washington,  I  invoke  it. 
Come  that  hberty ! — come  none  that  does  not  lead  to  that !  Come 
the  liberty,  that  shall  strike  off  every  chain,  not  only  of  iron  and 
iron-law,  but  of  painful  constriction,  of  fear,  of  enslaving  passion,  of 
mad  self-will ;  the  liberty  of  perfect  truth  and  love,  of  holy  faith  and 
glad  obedience ! 

'  He  is  a  freeman  whom  the  truth  makes  free ; 
And  all  are  slaves  beside.'  " 

This  extract  presents  Dr.  Dewey's  position  on  a  familiar  subject, 
but  one  which,  in  this  day,  and  in  every  day,  has  excited,  all  vnW 
allow,  not  a  little  attention.  A  few  years  ago,  in  the  "  Compromise 
Times,"  as  they  are  called,  Dr.  Dewey  declared  himself  in  favor  of 
what  will  always  be  recognized  in  our  national  history  as  the  "  Com- 
promise Measures."  His  position  was  not  in  accordance  with  the 
convictions  of  many  leading  clergymen  of  his  denomination,  and 
not  in  accordance  ^vith  what  is  now  the  expressed  popular  sentiment 
of  the  North,  and  with  what  was  then  the  suppressed  popular  senti- 
ment of  the  North.  He  was,  in  consequence,  subjected  to  more  or 
less  criticism,  which,  in  most  cases,  was  respectful  and  legitimate, 
but  in  some  cases  was  vituperative  and  unjust.  He  was  charged 
with  saying,  in  a  public  speech,  not  only  that  he  would  sustain  the 
Fugitive  Slave  Law,  but  also  that  he  would  send  his  mother  into 
Southern  slavery,  rather  than  see  the  Union  of  these  United  States 


280  ORVILLE    DEWEY. 

destroyed.  And  it  is  presumed  that  Theodore  Parker,  of  Boston, 
would  have  no  objection  to  be  mentioned  as  one  of  the  persons  who 
took  occasion  to  give  circulation  to  this  story.  It  is  suitable,  in  this 
matter,  which  at  the  time  excited  much  comment,  that  Dr.  Dewey 
should  be  heard  in  his  own  defence. 

In  a  lecture  before  the  Boston  Mercantile  Library  Association,  in 
1854,  after  expressing  in  the  strongest  terms  his  aversion  to  the  slave 
system.  Dr.  Dewey  proceeded  thus : 

"  Gentlemen,  six  years  ago  I  addressed  you  on  this  subject,  and  I 
said  nothing  then  at  variance  w4th  what  I  say  now\  But  ever  since 
that  time,  I  have  been  traduced  by  certain  persons  with  the  charge 
of  saying  that  I  would  consign  my  most  venerable  relative  to  slavery 
to  save  the  Union — or,  as  they  say,  to  sustain  the  present  fugitive 
slave  bill — a  bill  of  which  I  did  not  say  any  thing ;  and  I  am  per- 
fectly at  liberty,  in  consistence  with  my  ovm  declarations,  to  detest 
this  fugitive  slave  bill,  and  all  fugitive  slave  bills — which  I  heartily 
do.  But  to  the  charge  :  I  understand  that  those  who  bring  it  say 
that  it  can  be  proved  ;  because  some  persons — one  or  two,  I  think, 
out  of  two  or  three  thousand — are  ready  to  testify  that  they  heard 
me  speak  the  offensive  words.  Give  me  your  patience  for  one  mo- 
ment, and  let  me  possess  my  own.  If  any  person  professing  to  be  my 
friend  should  bring  this  argument — if  any  such  person  could  believe 
me  capable  of  an  indecorum  so  irreverent,  gross,  and  unnecessary — 
I  should  simply  turn  my  back  upon  him,  and  say  not  a  word.  But 
to  an  enemy  or  an  honest  defamer,  I  would  say — just  look  at  it ; 
here  am  I,  a  sincere  and  respectable  person  (I  hope  I  may  say  that)^ 
and  I  simply  aver  that  I  never  uttered  those  words  that  you  charge 
me  with  speaking — ^being,  indeed,  totally  incapable  of  it — as  much 
as  I  am  of  profane  swearing.  Here,  too,  are  the  manuscripts  of  my 
printed  lecture,  and  my  printed  speech  at  Pittsfield,  containing  no 
such  words  as  you  allege.  And  here,  too,  is  the  natural  liability  of 
any  man's  ear,  to  mistake  the  word  brother  for  mother ;  and  yet  you 
have  maintained  your  charge  ;  you  have  invaded  the  sanctuary  and 
hoHest  shrine  of  private  aflfection;  you  have  roUed  this  lie,  as  a 
sweet  morsel,  under  your  tongues,  for  six  years !  Have  such  men 
mothers  ? 


CHARACTER.  281 

"  Gentlemen,  I  hope  you  will  pardon  this  allusion  to  myself.  It 
is  almost  forced  from  me  by  the  circumstance  that  the  last  time  I 
addressed  you,  I  gave  utterance  to  the  sentiment  which  has  been  so 
perseveringly  misrepresented — which  sentiment  was  expressed  in 
these  words.  Casting  in  my  lot  with  the  African  man — applying  no 
argument  to  him  which  I  would  not  bring  home  to  myself,  I  said, 
'  I  would  consent' — for  I  did  not  speak  of  sending  anybody  into 
slavery  ;  '  I  would  consent  that  my  own  brother,  my  own  son,  should 
go  into  slavery — ten  times  rather  would  I  go  myself,  than  that  this 
Union  should  perish  for  me  or  mine ;'  and  I  believe  you  will  feel, 
that  if  I  could  have  saved  this  Union  from  being  rent  in  pieces  by 
becoming  a  slave,  no  bosom  in  all  this  continent,  or  the  world,  would 
have  been  filled  with  such  joy  as  mine.  And  I  think  you  will  agTee 
with  me,  that  when,  for  what  I  then  said  and  you  approved,  such 
unrelenting  slander  has  attempted  to  fix  upon  me  the  character  of  a 
\aolent  and  vulgar  brawler  for  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  I  have  a 
right  to  repel  it,  and  before  you  to  repel  it,  in  somewhat  indignant 
and  decisive  terms." 

Having  thus  sketched  the  life  of  Dr.  Dewey  up  to  the  present 
time,  we  wall  close  with  a  brief  criticism. 

We  could  not  write  of  Dr.  Dewey  as  the  man  in  distinction  from 
Dr.  Dewey  as  the  religious  man ;  because  it  is  true  of  him,  that 
religion  is  a  part  of  his  life  ;  that  it  enters  in  as  an  element  of  his 
character,  and  as  a  living  principle  of  his  being.  It  is  with  him  no 
external  afiair,  put  on  and  off  like  the  dress — a  mere  protection  to 
the  individual,  not  a  part  of  him ;  but  it  has  been  taken  into  his 
soul,  and  like  the  absorption  of  food  by  the  body,  it  has  become,  by 
spiritual  digestion,  a  component  part  of  his  spiritual  organization. 
He  believes  and  teaches  that  man  can  and  must  make  this  matter 
of  piety  and  morality,  of  love  to  God  and  love  to  man,  the  controlling, 
actuating  principle  of  every-day  life  ;  of  a  life  however  obscure,  and 
of  actions  however  humble.  Hence  we  should  say  that  this  was  a 
characteristic  of  his  preaching,  namely,  the  enforcement  of  piety  as 
a  life^  not  as  a  creed — not  as  an  outward  garment,  not  as  a  sesame 
at  the  gate  of  heaven ;  but  as  a  life,  a  vital  motion,  a  principle,  as 
something  to  live  by  as  well  as  to  die  by.     He  interweaves  religious 


282  OliVILLE    DEWEY. 

duty  and  daily  concerns  ;  and  the  hearer  is  impressed  with  the  oWi- 
gation  of  becoming,  not  so  much  a  "  churchman,"  or  a  "professor,"  or 
an  "^xhorter,"  as  of  becoming  a  religious  man — religious  in  thoughts, 
in  affections,  in  tastes,  in  amusements,  in  business — religious  in  the 
whole  being  and  in  all  doing.  Hence  he  exerts  an  influence  towards 
the  disregard  of  factitious  circumstances,  such  as  rank,  wealth,  fashion, 
intellectual  power,  personal  beauty,  or  the  lack  of  any  of  these  ;  in" 
comparison  with  the  essentials  of  a  sincere,  upright,  earnest  character, 
working  out  in  a  faithful,  honest,  pure,  and  loving  life. 

In  conversation,  a  person  of  Dr.  Dewey's  thought  and  culture  can- 
not but  be  attractive,  if  he  give  freedom  to  his  thoughts  and  play  to 
his  fancy.  This  he  does  to  an  unusual  degree.  He  is  one  of  the 
best  conversationists,  maintaining  lively  chat  of  anecdote,  illustra- 
tion, and  repartee,  with  a  vein  of  sound  sense  constantly  revealing 
itself,  and  an  underlying  strata  of  philosophical  and  religious  thought 
ever  cropping  out. 

In  person.  Dr.  Dewey  is  of  medium  height,  with  a  well-compacted 
body,  surmounted  by  a  head  quite  too  large  to  be  proportioned ; 
with  a  full,  high,  and  broad  forehead ;  wdth  dark,  short,  undirected 
hair ;  and  a  large,  flexible,  expressive,  and  homely  mouth. 

Dr.  Dewey'a  style  is  the  result  of  severe  discipline,  and  one  diffi- 
cult of  attainment.  It  is  both  ornate  and  chaste.  It  is  not  so  likely 
to  -win  the  applause  of  the  many ;  but  it  finds  its  way  to  an  aristoc- 
racy of  mind  on  terms  of  confidence.  It  has  a  nobility  of  air,  which 
marks  it  as  of  a  privileged  order.  He  illustrates,  more  than  is  usual 
perhaps,  by  reference  to  personal  experience,  to  something  seen  or 
heard,  or,  in  some  cases,  to  the  progress  of  thought-development  in 
his  own  mind ;  yet  all  such  references  are  made  in  the  same  cultivated 
manner,  which  does  not  partake  of  conversational  familiarity.  Take 
the  following  as  a  brief  specimen : 

"  I  have  seen  one  die :  she  was  beautiful ;  and  beautiful  were  the 
ministries  of  life  that  were  given  her  to  fulfil.  Angelic  loveliness 
enrobed  her ;  and  a  grace,  as  if  it  were  caught  from  heaven,  breathed  in 
every  tone,  hallowed  every  affection,  shone  in  every  action,  invested 
as  a  halo  her  whole  existence,  and  made  it  a  light  and  blessing, 
a  charm  and  a  vision  of  gladness,  to  all  around  her  :  but  she  died ! 


DISCOUKSES.  283 

Friendsliip,  and  love,  and  parental  fondness,  and  infant  weakness, 
stretched  out  their  hand  to  save  her ;  but  they  could  not  save  her ; 
and  she  died !  What !  did  all  that  loveliness  die  ?  Is  there  no  land 
of  the  blessed  and  the  lovely  ones  for  such  to  live  in  ?  Forbid  it, 
reason ! — religion ! — bereaved  ajffection,  and  undying  love !  forbid  the. 
thought !  It  cannot  be  that  such  die,  in  God's  counsel,  who  live, 
even  in  frail  human  memory,  forever  1" 

All,  except  his  late  writings,  are  bound  in  one  volume,  published 
at  London  in  1844  *  It  is  a  closely-printed  octavo  of  nearly  nine 
hundred  pages.  In  it  come  first,  "  Discourses  on  Various  Subjects," 
on  "Human  Nature,"  on  "Religious  Sensibility,"  on  "The  Voices  of 
the  Dead,"  &c.,  &c.  Then  follow,  "  Moral  Views  on  Comnaerce,  So- 
ciety, and  Politics,"  on  "The  Moral  End  of  Business,"  on  "Associa- 
tions," on  "  The  Moral  Evils  to  which  American  Society  is  Exposed," 
on  "  War,"  on  "  The  Blessing  of  Freedom,"  &c.  Here  one  will  find 
a  thorough  philosophical  view  of  the  relation  which  business  and 
labor  hold  to  man  as  a  spiritual  being,  and  of  the  moral  ends  accom- 
plished by  these  mighty  ordinances  of  commerce,  society,  and  poh- 
tics ;  and  their  real  evils  are  presented  graphically  and  the  reme- 
dies set  forth  encouragingly.  These  social  questions  are  discussed 
with  candor,  thoroughness,  and  practical  sense. 

We  next  have,  "  Discourses  on  Human  Life,"  on  "  The  Moral  Sig- 
nificance of  Life,"  on  "The  Miseries  of  Life,"  on  "The  Religion  of 
Life,"  on  "The  Problem  of  Life  Resolved  in  the  Life  of  Christ,"  on  "The 
Call  of  Humanity,  and  the  Answer  to  It,"  &c.  These  are  more  re- 
ligious in  their  character  than  the  preceding.  They  set  forth  the 
connection  between  rehgion  and  morality,  and  the  importance  of 
religion  as  a  li\dng  principle,  exemplifying  the  prominent  traits  in 
Dr.  Dewey's  character  and  teachings.  We  call  attention  to  the  fol- 
lowing extracts  taken  from  difierent  discourses : 

"  Life,  then,  we  repeat,  is  what  we  make  it,  and  the  world  is  what 
we  make  it.     Life,  that  is  to  say,  takes  its  coloring  from  our  own 


*  These  Discourses  mentioned,  together  with  some  others  not  contained  in 
the  London  edition,  and  articles  from  Eeviews  not  before  printed,  are  published 
by  C.  S.  Francis  &  Co.,  New  York,  in  three  volumes,  duodecimo. 


28i  ORVILLE   DEWEY. 

minds;  the  world,  as  the  scene  of  our  welfare  or  woe,  is,  so  to 
speak,  moulded  in  the  bosom  of  hmnan  experience.  The  archetypes, 
the  ideal  forais  of  things  without — if  not,  as  some  philosophers  have 
said,  in  a  metaphysical  sense,  yet  in  a  moral  sense — they  exist  with- 
in us.  The  world  is  the  mirror  of  the  soul.  Life  is  the  history,  not 
of  outward  events — not  of  outward  events  chiefly — but  life,  human 
hfe,  is  the  history  of  a  mind.  To  the  pure,  all  things  are  pure ;  to 
the  joyous,  all  things  are  joyous ;  to  the  gloomy,  all  things  are 
gloomy ;  to  the  good,  all  things  are  good ;  to  the  bad,  all  things  are 
bad.  The  world  is  nothing  but  a  mass  of  materials,  subject  to  a 
great  moral  experiment.  The  human  breast  is  the  laboratory." 
*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  The  distinctions  of  life,  too,  are  mostly  factitious,  the  work  of 
art,  and  man's  device.  They  are  man's  gifts,  rather  than  God's  gifts ; 
and  for  that  reason  I  would  esteem  them  less.  They  are  fluctuating 
also,  and  therefore  attract  notice,  but  on  that  account,  too,  are  less 
valuable.  They  are  palpable  to  the  senses,  attended  with  noise  and 
show,  and  therefore  likely  to  be  over-estimated ;  while  those  vast 
benefits  which  all  share,  and  which  are  always  the  same,  which  come 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  which  do  not  disturb  the  ordinary 
and  even  tenor  of  life,  pass  by  unheeded.  The  resounding  chariot, 
as  it  rolls  on  with  princely  state  and  magnificence,  is  gazed  upon 
with  admiration,  and  perhaps  with  envy.  But  morning  comes  forth 
in  the  east,  and  from  his  glorious  chariot-wheels  scatters  light  over 
the  heavens,  and  spreads  life  and  beauty  through  the  world :  morn- 
ing after  morning  comes,  and  noontide  sets  its  throne  in  the  southern 
sky,  and  the  day  finishes  its  splendid  revolution  in  heaven,  without 
exciting,  perhaps,  a  comment  or  a  reflection."  ^  %  * 

"  Life  is  a  finely-attempered,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  very  trying 
school.  It  is  finely  attempered ;  that  is,  it  is  carefully  adjusted,  in  all 
its  arrangements  and  tasks,  to  man's  powers  and  passions.  There  is 
no  extravagance  in  its  teachings ;  nothing  is  done  for  the  sake  of 
present  efiect.  It  excites  man,  but  it  does  not  excite  him  too  much. 
Indeed,  so  carefully  adjusted  are  all  things  to  this  raging  love  of  ex- 
citement, so  admirably  fitted  to  hold  this  passion  in  check,  and  to 
attemper  all  things  to  what  man  can  bear,  that  I  cannot  help  seeing 


DISCOURSES.  285 

in  this  feature  of  life,  intrinsic  and  wonderful  evidence  of  a  wise  and 
overruling  Order.  Men  often  complain  tliat  life  is  dull,  tame,  and 
drudging.  But  how  unwisely  were  it  arranged,  if  it  were  all  one 
gala-day  of  enjoyment  or  transport!  And  when  men  make  their 
own  schools  of  too  much  excitement,  their  parties,  controversies,  asso- 
ciations, and  enterprises,  how  soon  do  the  heavy  reaUties  of  life 
fasten  upon  the  chariot-wheels  of  success  when  they  are  ready  to  take 
fire,  and  hold  them  back  to  a  moderated  movement !"       ^-       *       * 

"  It  is  our  inordinate  self-seeking,  self-considering,  that  is  ever  a 
stumbling-block  in  our  way.  It  is  this  which  spreads  questions, 
snares,  difficulties,  around  us.  It  is  this  that  darkens  the  very  ways 
of  Prondence  to  us,  and  makes  the  world  a  less  happy  world  to  us 
than  it  might  be.  There  is  one  thought  that  could  take  us  out  from 
all  these  difficulties,  but  we  cannot  think  it.  There  is  one  clue  from 
the  labyrinth  ;  there  is  one  solution  of  this  struggling  philosophy  of 
life  within  us ;  it  is  found  in  that  Gospel,  that  life  of  Jesus,  with 
which  we  have,  alas !  but  little  deep  heart-acquaintance.  Every 
one  must  know  that  if  he  could  be  elevated  to  that  self-forgetting 
simplicity  and  disinterestedness,  he  would  be  reheved  from  more 
than  half  of  the  inmost  trials  of  his  bosom.  What,  then,  can  be  done 
for  us,  but  that  we  be  directed,  and  that,  too,  in  a  concern  as 
solemn  as  our  deepest  wisdom  and  welfare,  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ  ? 
'  In  Him  was  life  ;  and  the  Hfe  was  the  hght  of  men.'  " 

Next  follow  fifteen  discourses  in  defence  of  Unitarianism.  In 
these  is  probably  comprised  the  ablest  and  fullest  argument  in 
defence  of  that  faith.  In  this  volume  is  also  included  "The 
Old  World  and  the  New,"  at  which  we  have  already  glanced. 
We  would  direct  attention  to  the  remarks  scattered  through  Dr. 
Dewey's  works  on  Amusements  and  Recreations,  both  national  and 
individual.  He  approves  of  their  extensive  use,  as  calculated  to 
refine  and  develop — nay,  he  deems  them  essential  as  meeting  a  want 
of  our  nature,  which  cannot  be  left  unsatisfied  without  detriment 
to  character.  We  commend  these  views  to  all.  The  subject  of 
Amusements  is  of  interest,  and  here  it  will  be  found  to  be  candidly 
and  philosophically  discussed.  The  volume  closes  with  "  Mscella- 
neous  Discourses  and  Essays,"  among  which  appear  his  dedication 


286  ORVILLE    DEWET. 

sermon  of  the  Churcli  of  the  Messiah,  and  a  discourse  on  "the 
Character  and  "Writings  of  Dr.  Channing,"  -which  we  consider  his 
mastei-pieces.  The  former  sets  forth  the  true  object  and  aim  of  the 
pulpit  as  one  rarely  sees  them  set  forth. 

The  eulogy  of  Channing  is  remarkable,  not  only  as  a  beautiful 
tribute  of  affection,  but  also  as  a  discriminating  analysis  of  character. 
To  him  who  was  blessed  with  the  friendship  of  the  original,  how  life- 
like seems  the  picture !  The  touches  have  the  delicacy  of  a  master's 
skill,  so  exquisitely  finished  that  they  thrill  the  soul  like  strains  of 
delicious  music. 

And,  lastly,  we  come  to  a  treatise  on  American  Morals  and 
Manners,  in  which  are  discussed  with  candor  and  ability  the  sub- 
jects of  Repudiation,  Slavery,  the  effects  of  Democratic  Institutions, 
&c.  The  treatise  appears  to  have  been  written  with  special  reference 
to  the  enlightenment  of  Europeans.  The  \'iews  commend  them- 
selves to  the  good  sense  of  all.  Our  national  character  would  be 
elevated  by  such  a  reading.  We  should  not  only  be  more  proud  of 
our  birthright,  the  boon  of  liberty,  and  more  patriotic,  but  also 
more  jealous  of  our  country's  honor,  and  more  devoted  to  her 
advancement. 

Dr.  Dewey  is  an  orator,  though  belonging  rather  to  the  ancient 
than  the  modem  school.  A  popular  orator  of  the  present  day  must 
be  more  impetuous,  fiery,  noisy,  flashing,  nervous,  than  Dr.  Dewey 
is.  "We  have  such  in  the  pulpit,  at  the  bar,  in  the  hall,  on  the 
stump,  but  they  are  often  declaimers  rather  than  orators.  The 
orator  must  possess  dignity,  yet  without  pomposity ;  ease,  without 
slovenliness ;  richness  of  style,  without  inflation ;  simplicity,  without 
abruptness ;  power,  without  commotion ;  earnestness,  without  haste ; 
he  must  be  impassioned,  but  not  passionate ;  roused,  but  not  vehe- 
ment ;  on-going,  but  not  impetuous.  Such  an  orator  is  Dr.  Dewey. 
His  periods  are  perfectly  complete  and  rounded,  yet  filled  by  the 
thought;  the  variety  is  great,  yet  a  symmetry  prevails;  and  in 
general  we  find  that  harmony  between  the  thoughts  and  their  form, 
which  should  always  obtain.  Some  excel  in  style,  but  lack  thought ; 
others  are  rich  in  thought,  but  fail  in  style ;  some  use  words  to  please 
the  ear  merely ;  others  discard  all  grace  and  melody.     Dr.  Dewey 


PULPIT   STYLE.  287 

combines  the  two.  .It  is  doubtful  whether  the  name  of  Saxon  or 
Roman  would  apply  to  his  style.  Artistic  and  scholarly  it  cer- 
tainly is.  His  imagination  is  rich,  but  not  superfluous ;  ready,  but 
not  obtrusive.  It  takes  not  the  lead  of  truth,  but  waits  on  her  as  a 
handmaid.  It  flies,  but  not  to  weariness ;  soars,  but  does  not  strain 
its  flight.  Granting  that  the  object  of  oratory  is  to  arouse  and 
move,  we  believe  that  the  form  and  mode  of  appeal  are  essential  ele- 
ments and  grounds  of  criticism.  The  eflect  should  be  produced 
through  the  avenues,  not  of  the  passions  or  lower  sensibilities,  or 
any  emotions  based  on  self-interest,  but  through  reason  and  con- 
science ;  through  those  high  and  noble  sensibilities  which  belong  to 
us  as  spiritual  and  not  animal  beings.  Such,  we  think,  is  the  pecu- 
liar feature  of  ancient  oratory.  "VVe  find  no  descent  to  the  low  and 
sensual.  Those  ancient  princes  among  the  nobihty  of  intellect  ex- 
pected to  meet  their  hearers  on  their  own  high  ground,  and  in  their 
own  pure  atmosphere.  Such  a  position  we  believe  it  is  which  Dr. 
Dewey  holds. 

Eveiy  church  has  its  own  pecuhar  atmosphere.  We  mean,  of 
course,  its  mental  or  spiritual  atmosphere,  which  is  often  perceptible 
even  to  the  stranger.  This  is  to  be  attributed  in  part,  no  doubt,  to 
the  combination  of  effects  upon  the  senses,  from  various  causes,  such 
as  the  architecture,  the  music,  the  appearance  of  the  worshippers, 
their  dress,  and  deportment ;  but  above  all,  from  the  Preacher^  in  the 
expression  of  his  face,  in  his  whole  manner  and  bearing,  and  espe- 
cially in  his  voice.  He  it  is  who  most  of  all  decides  the  charactei 
of  this  general  impression,  and  his  presence  seems  at  times  to  per- 
vade the  place,  and  to  affect  one's  very  thoughts  and  emotions. 

In  some  churches,  the  chief  elements  are  confusion,  noise,  disor- 
der ;  in  others,  seriousness  and  repose,  harmonizing  w^ith  the  sphit 
of  true  worship.  In  some  the  spirit  of  form  rules,  and  one  feels 
chilled  and  petrified  ;  in  some,  ignorance,  rant,  and  superstition  pre- 
vail ;  in  some,  sectarianism  and  bigotry ;  in  some,  pride,  fashion,  and 
worldhness ;  while  in  others,  the  happy  opposites  of  these  appear. 

"When  Dr.  Dewey  appears  in  the  pulpit,  one  feels  that  an  earn- 
est, devout,  thoughtful  man  is  to  speak.  There  is  no  restlessness, 
no  unnecessary  shifting  and  arranging,  no  sudden  angular  move- 


288  ORVILLE    DEWEY. 

ments,  no  commotion,  no  hmry.  But  in  prayer  one  receives  the 
full  impression  of  these  traits.  There  is  no  profane  rushing  to  the 
act,  no  cant,  no  prayer  to  the  audience,  no  shouting  as  if  God  were 
indeed  "  a  God  afar  off ;"  but  one  feels  that  the  Deity  is  approached 
by  a  finite  creature,  and  not  by  an  equal,  whom  humility  and  sin- 
cerity best  become.  There  is  that  union  of  adoration,  fear,  trust, 
petition,  confession,  and  those  marks  of  earnest,  collected  thought,^ 
which  are  the  necessary  elements  of  true  prayer.  As  agreeing  with, 
and  in  part  conducing  to  this  effect,  we  may  speak  here  of  his  voice, 
the  superiority  of  which  is  most  evident  in  this  sublime  act.  It  is 
then  a  deep  orotund,  some  degree  of  which  so  naturally  and  almost 
necessarily  accompanies  the  expression  of  the  solemn  and  religious. 
One  rarely  hears  a  voice  so  low  and  deep-toned,  and  so  in  haraiony 
with  the  worshipping,  imploring  heart.  The  spirit  of  adoration,  and 
o^  earnest,  dignified,  intelligent  worship,  pervades  his  ministrations. 

The  philosophical  cast  of  Dr.  Dewey's  mind  is  seen  even  in  his 
lightest  writings  and  ordinary  conversation.  He  may  be  humorous 
and  jovial,  yet  the  undercurrent  of  philosophical  thought  plainly  in- 
fluences and  guides.  He  often  expresses  the  choicest  thoughts  in 
the  garb  of  the  merest  pleasantry.  As  we  see  the  truthfulness  of 
the  man  in  his  sermons,  so  do  we  see  in  them  his  philosophy.  It  is 
seen  in  the  control  exercised  by  reason ;  in  a  freedom  from  wild 
fancy,  contradictions,  one-sidedness,  exaggeration ;  in  a  comprehen- 
siveness of  \dew,  and  a  looking  beyond  the  fences  of  party,  and  sect, 
and  age,  and  condition,  which  reason  so  imperatively  demands. 
The  philosopher  is  seen  also  in  a  warm,  ever-present  sympathy  with 
man,  and  an  intimate  knowledge  of  him  in  his  inner  life.  The 
active,  true  humanity  in  him  finds  it  in  others.  It  is  the  great  end 
of  philosophy  to  unfold  humanity  to  itself,  to  redeem  it  from  its 
ignorance  and  debasement,  to  bring  it  forth  from  the  darkness  and 
delusive  shadows  of  its  cave  to  the  air  and  light,  to  arouse  it  from 
its  deep  and  fatal  sleep  to  a  glorious  and  sa^^ng  consciousness.  Some 
may  say  that  this  is  the  end  of  religion,  but  we  cannot  separate 
these.  Religion  is  the  highest  form,  the  consummation  of  philos- 
ophy. 


FREDERICK  D.  HUNTINGTON. 


And  ye  are  Christ's  :  and  Christ  is  God's.' 


It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  circumstances  have  prevented  the 
preparation  of  a  criticism  and  biography  of  Professor  Huntington, 
which,  in  its  fidness,  should  meet  the  reasonable  demands  of  the 
reader ;  but  we  trust  that  the  following  description,  though  imper- 
fect, will  mitigate  disappointment,  or  at  least  be  accepted  as  the 
evidence  of  an  unfulfilled  desire. 

F.  D.  Huntington  was  bom  in  Hadley,  Massachusetts,  May  28, 
1819,  and  is  the  son  of  a  distiaguished  clergyman  residing  in  that 
place.  Hon.  Charles  P.  Huntington,  of  Northampton,  one  of  the 
ablest  lawyers  of  Massachusetts,  remarkable  for  culture,  manliness, 
and  effective  eloquence,  is  his  brother. 

Mr.  Huntington  entered  Amherst  College  in  1835,  and  was  grad- 
uated in  1839,  with  the  first  honors  of  the  class.  His  valedictory 
made  a  marked  impression  by  its  vigorous  thought,  and  brilliant 
rhetoric.  His  class  is  regarded  as  including  more  young  men,  re- 
markable for  talent  or  genius,  than  almost  any  previous  one.  Pro- 
fessor Huntington ;  Dr.  R.  S.  Storrs,  Jr.,  of  Brooklyn ;  and  Rev. 
N.  A.  Hewit,  of  the  Catholic  Church,  have  already  become  distin- 
guished. Several  of  rich  promise  have  died ;  among  whom  we  might 
mention  J.  H.  Bancroft,  of  Boston,  who  had  a  singularly  poetical  and 
fruitful  mind  ;  and  G.  Sumner,  of  Detroit,  who  possessed  the  highest 
order  of  legal  ability.  Rev.  N.  A.  Hewit,  the  son  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Hewit  of  Bridgeport,  Connecticut,  is  now  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent preachers  in  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  He  belongs  to 
the  German  monastic  order  of  Redemptorists,  who  spend  six  months 

19 


290  FEEDEKICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

of  the  year  in  seclusion,  and  six  in  itinerant  preacliing,  tlms  emula- 
ting the  Methodists  in  their  peciihar  exxjellence. 

Mr.  Huntington  was  graduated  at  the  Cambridge  Divinity  School 
in  1842,  and  immediately  invited  to  the  pastoral  charge  of  the 
South  Congregational  Church  of  Boston,  and  was  ordained  on  the 
nineteenth  of  October.  Here  he  remained  until  elected  in  1855, 
"Preacher  to  the  Cambridge  University,  and  Professor  of  Chris- 
tian Morals."  His  relations  to  his  Church  were  of  the  happiest 
and  closest,  and  the  separation  a  sad  one  for  both  pastor  and 
people. 

A  writer  in  a  Boston  paper  says,  "  Mr.  Huntington's  manner  in 
the  pulpit  is  such  as  to  command  attention.  He  combines  dignity 
with  grace,  and  a  certain  loftiness  of  demeanor.  Every  thing  he 
says  is  impressed  with  the  thoughtfulness  of  an  earnest  man,  and 
seems  a  direct  expression  of  the  soul.  He  infuses  himself  into  all 
his  discomses,  uniting  also  to  this,  earnestness  of  sentiment  and  a 
vigorous  and  buoyant  rhetoric.  He  is  peculiarly  clear  and  forcible  in 
expression,  and  never  leaves  the  hearer  in  doubt  as  to  his  meaning. 
There  is  remarkable  \itality  and  strength  in  his  compositions.  The 
tones  of  his  voice  are  full,  firm,  smooth,  of  large  compass,  and  skil- 
fully modulated.  Naturally  rich  and  generous,  he  has  submitted  it 
to  a  severe  culture.  Hence  it  has  become  flexible,  obedient,  and 
musical.  The  conformation  of  his  forehead  gives  token  of  strong 
intellectual  powers,  while  the  whole  structure  of  his  head  is  that  of 
a  firm,  stalwart,  valiant  man.  His  countenance  is  indicative  of  great 
humanity,  manliness,  and  dignity.  In  person  he  is  of  medium  size, 
robust  frame,  and  fine  muscular  development." 

Another  writer  says :  "  No  one  can  hear  Mr.  Huntington  speak, 
and  forget  the  impressiveness  of  his  manner,  and  the  excellence  ot 
his  elocution.  He  has  a  finely  modulated,  deep-toned,  and  rich 
voice,  which  has  been  carefully  cultivated.  His  countenance  is  full 
of  benignity,  reminding  one  of  the  remark  concerning  the  late  Presi- 
dent Kirkland,  that '  his  face  was  a  benediction.'  He  is  one  of  the 
best  of  readers.  Indeed,  the  Scriptures,  as  he  reads  them,  are  the 
best  of  all  sermons,  for  the  hearer  has  both  the  letter  and  the 
spirit." 


LEITER   BY   C.    L.   BRACE.  291 

The  following  description  is  taken  from  a  letter  written  by  Kev. 
C.  L.  Brace : 

"  On  Sunday  I  had  the  pleasure,  at  the  College  Chapel,  of  hearing 
two  sermons  from  Rev.  Dr.  Huntington,  professor  and  chaplain  of 
the  college. 

"  They  w^ere  sermons,  from  which  one  would  come  away,  not  so 
much  thinking  of  the  speaker  or  his  powers,  as  profoundly  solem- 
nized and  impressed. 

"  The  morning  address  was  on  the  wish  *  to  die  the  death  of  the 
righteous.'  He  took  up  the  aspiration,  not  from  the  usual  point  of 
view,  as  the  desire  of  the  repentant  or  the  virtuous,  but  as  the  long- 
ing of  all  men  at  certain  times  to  have  a  calm  and  hopeful  closing — 
a  pledge,  as  it  were,  of  the  reopening.  The  main  purport  of  his  re- 
marks was  to  show  that  '  the  only  way  of  dying  nobly  was  to  live 
nobly ;'  that  the  triumph  of  the  death-bed  is,  as  it  were,  the  aggre- 
gate resultant  triumph  of  a  great  many  contests  with  self  the  whole 
life-long ;  that  our  composure  and  faith  there,  if  we  be  in  sound 
mind,  is  the  peace  which  living  first  with  God  has  given  us.  The 
deep  impression  left  by  the  sermon  came  in  great  measure  probably 
from  the  earnestness  of  the  speaker  himself — a  sense  of  the  awful 
reality  of  these  forever-repeated  truths,  as  if  with  a  new  and  pro- 
found meaning  which  forced  it  on  our  minds,  he  had  said,  ''There  is 
a  God.  You  are  immortal,  and  you  hasten  to  tremendous  retribu- 
tions. There  is  a  life,  invisible.  Faith,  Love,  Nobleness,  are  the 
great  facts  for  each  soul.     It  is  all  true.' 

"  His  language  was  throughout  singularly  fresh  and  beautiful — 
charming  the  intellectual  ear,  yet  never  drawing  away  from  the 
idea — and  rich  in  a  continual  succession  of  similes  and  pictures. 
His  manner  was  excellent  for  such  a  place  ;  for  the  most  part  easy, 
half-colloquial,  and  only  now  and  then  rising  into  a  strain  of  elo- 
quence. Any  thing  like  strained  oratory,  Sunday  after  Sunday, 
there,  would  completely  pall.  The  great  and  marked  quality  was 
the  profound  earnestness  of  the  man. 

"  The  afternoon  sermon  was  on  '  the  backsliding  Christian' — the 
falling  away  from  one's  ideal  of  life  :  of  course,  to  any  thoughtful 
mind,  the  most  solemn  of  all  subjects.     His  treatment  of  it  was 


292  FKEDEKICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

very  impressive,  but  by  no  means  equal  to  the  morning's.  The 
characterizations  were  evidently  not  drawn  from  life,  but  rather 
from  the  usual  lists  of  backshdden  saints  in  sermon-writing.  It 
is  in  such  life-pictures  that  H.  W.  Beecher  shows  himself  the 
greatest  preacher  of  his  day,  and  sometimes,  we  think,  of  modern 
times. 

"  Of  both  sermons,  the  most  eminent  fault  was,  they  were  not 
written  for  the  audience ;  still,  they  could  not  fail  to  reach  any 
hearer. 

"Perhaps  even  more  than  by  his  addresses,  I  was  affected  by  the 
prayers.  There  is  something  almost  offensive  in  even  criticising  a 
prayer ;  yet  it  has  become  necessary.  I  believe  I  speak  the  lan- 
guage of  thousands  of  hearts,  who  would  not  care  to  utter  it,  when 
I  say  that  in  very  many  of  our  pulpits,  of  all  sects,  the  prayers  have 
become  something  odious  to  us.  To  see  a  man  arise,  and,  with  sol- 
emn manner  of  worship,  professed  to  be  addressed  to  the  Infinite 
Spirit,  utter  an  elegant,  careful  statement,  whether  of  doctrine  or 
technical  expressions,  evidently  intended  for  the  audience,  contain- 
ing no  one  word  or  sentence  which  really  his  heart  would  utter,  and 
filled  with  phrases  which  have  lost  all  life  to  him  and  almost  every- 
body else,  is  to  me  so  disagreeable  and  offensive,  that  I  feel  ashamed 
at  bowing  my  head  in  union  with  such  mummery.  When  the  liv- 
ing spirit  has  left  the  pulpit,  you  can  bear  for  long  the  empty  ser- 
mons and  soulless  exhortations.  You  may  feel  your  patience  a  kind 
of  sacrificial  offering  to  the  great  cause  of  social  worship  and  ex- 
pressed religion.  But  to  feign  a  part  in  a  prayer,  which  to  your 
mind  is  an  empty  pretence,  or  an  arbitrary,  technical  mode  of  show- 
ing the  spirit  of  supplication,  is  revolting  to  one's  honesty  and  rev- 
erence ;  and  such  services  become  a  burden  and  an  offence.  The 
cause  of  the  difficulty  is  twofold.  It  lies  in  that  tendency  whicli 
curses  all  human  effort,  to  forget  the  inward  for  the  outward,  to  lose 
sight  of  the  soul,  to  run  into  routine ;  and  further,  in  many  in- 
stances, in  a  constitutional  inability  to  utter  public  prayers.  There 
are  men  who  cannot  pray  in  public,  and  they  never  will.  The  rem- 
edies for  both  I  leave  to  the  consideration  of  your  readers. 

"Mr.  Huntington  seems  to  me  really  to  pray  in  tlie  pulpit.     His 


PRAYER.  293 

soul  breathes  out  there,  m  natural  language,  its  aspirations  to  the 
Redeemer  and  Father.  The  very  spirit  of  the  petitioner  raises  you 
to  his  own  level  of  faith,  and  dependence,  and  aspiration.  It  is  not 
the  words  merely  that  you  join,  but,  by  the  mysterious  touch  of 
sympathy,  your  soul  for  the  moment  takes  the  same  solemn  aspects 
of  the  Unseen,  and  feels  the  same  sorrow,  or  hope,  or  spiritual  de- 
sire^ which  he  does. 

"  I  may  possibly  have  exaggerated  the  usual  character  of  his 
prayers ;  still,  so  for  the  time  they  seemed  to  me.  It  is  said,  too, 
by  those  familiar  with  the  matter,  that  that  usually  most  lifeless  of 
all  routine — college  morning-prayers — has  with  him  become  a  liv- 
ing thing.  Of  Mr.  Huntington's  exact  sectarian  and  theological  po- 
sition not  much  could  be  judged  from  these  services.  His  expres- 
sions were  evidently  his  own — not  gathered  from  catechisms  or 
creeds  ;  and  he  seemed,  as  every  true  man  should,  to  take  his  own 
individual  aspect  of  rehgious  truths. 

"  It  is  not  strange  to  hear  that  such  a  man  is  gaining  a  strong 
influence  over  the  students.  And  yet  how  rare  is  any  such  influ- 
ence in  a  college  chapel !  Of  all  places  in  the  world,  where  should 
be  a'  living  preacher  with  mind  awake  to  eternal  realities,  with  true 
human  sympathies,  and  practical  knowledge  of  men,  that  is  the 
one ;  and  yet  how  seldom  is  he  there !  If  there  is  any  audience 
which,  beyond  others,  is  not  affected  by  scholastic  or  so-called  clas- 
sical addresses,  it  is  one  of  young  students,  though  the  reverse  seems 
the  popular  belief." 

Professor  Huntington's  peculiar  position  with  respect  to  the  Uni- 
tarian and  Orthodox  denominations  is  represented  in  the  following 
extract  from  an  article  of  his  published  in  the  Monthly  Religious 
Magazine  for  November,  1855,  of  which  he  is  the  editor: 

"  Within  the  denomination  known  as  Unitarian,  there  are  those 
who  accept  Christianity  as  a  dispensation  of  Divine  grace,  and  not  a 
development  of  human  reason ;  as  having  for  its  specific  and  pecu- 
liar power,  a  special,  supernatural  redemption  from  sin,  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  not  merely  an  unusual  measure  of  natural  wisdom  or 
love.  They  believe  in  Christ  as  literally  and  verily  '  God  manifest  in 
the  flesh,*  all  power  being  given  unto  Him  in  heaven  and  on  earth  ; 


294  FKEDERICK   D.    HUNTINGTON. 

as  the  eternally-begotten  Son  of  God,  tlie  mode  of  His  oneness  with 
the  Father  being  a  glorious  and  gracious  mystery,  transcending 
knowledge  by  the  very  conditions  of  the  case ;  and  as  the  ever-living 
present  Head  of  the  Church,  and  personal  Intercessor  for  His  disci- 
ples. They  believe  in  the  imiversality  of  the  need  of  a  spiritual 
renewal  in  human  hearts,  through  repentance,  forgiving  grace,  and 
the  salvation  in  Christ.  They  believe  that  the  cross  of  the  Redeemer 
is  the  world's  only  hope ;  all  everywhere  who  are  saved  being  saved 
through  the  spiritual  administration  and  headship  of  the  Son  of  God 
over  the  entire  race,  consciously  or  unconsciously  operating.  They 
believe  in  prayer  as  a  veritable  asking  and  receiving  from  God,  and 
not  a  self-stimulating  and  reactive  process  of  man.  In  these  respects,  * 
they  probably  differ  from  others  of  the  same  name,  doctrinally.  In 
many  other  points  they  agree. 

"  These  persons  also  earnestly  desire  a  cordial  fellowship  with  all, 
of  every  name,  whose  spirit  and  faith  permit  it.  They  suppose  God 
has  true  serv^ants  in  all  religious  households,  and  that  other  sects  than 
the  Unitarians  have  something  to  afford  to  the  Church  of  the  Fu- 
ture. They  take  all  honorable  occasions,  therefore,  to  cultivate  these 
catholic  sympathies,  and  to  hold  friendly  intercourse  with  intelligent 
and  earnest  hearts  of  different  denominations ;  their  own  deepest  in- 
terest inclining  them  naturally  to  '  evangelical'  associations,  rather 
than  the  opposite.  Ministers  of  this  stamp  would  gladly  exchange 
professional  civilities  with  devout  orthodox  men,  for  the  sake  of 
the  ends  here  indicated,  and  as  being  a  simple  act  of  Christian 
decency  between  disciples  so  agreed  and  related.  They  make  full 
and  unreserved  use,  not  of  technical  terms,  but  of  the  rich  scrip- 
tural phraseology  which  best  conveys  their  doctrines.  Sometimes 
it  happens,  and  this  also  very  naturally,  that  their  preaching  is  liked 
by  orthodox  hearers ;  and  these,  finding  in  it  an  unexpected  unction, 
and  what  seems  the  very  truth  of  Christ,  call  it  orthodox  preach- 
ing. Such  believers  do  not  find  themselves  other^ase  than  happy, 
contented,  and  busy  where  they  are;  and,  having  tasted  of  a 
deep  peace,  can  say,  '  Would  to  God  all  were  even  as  I  am  in  this 
faith  !'  They  are  not  moving  consciously  towards  any  particular 
denomination  or  creed,  but   only  pray  to  come   nearer  and  ever 


CHUKCn  OF  THE  FUTUKE.  295 

nearer  to  tte  Master,  and  to  do  their  humble  work  faithfully  under 
His  eye,  and  His  acceptance. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  our  boasted  liberality  ?  Is  it  that  you 
may  be  rationalistic  as  you  please,  and  go  clear ;  but,  if  you  happen 
to  have  *  evangelical  predilections,  you  must  be  assailed  ?  Is  it  that 
we  must  be  tolerant  of  skepticism,  and  the  persecutors  of  orthodoxy  ? 
Is  it  that  we  must  embrace  those  who  deny  the  doctrines  of  redemp- 
tion, regeneration,  special  and  Divine  answers  to  prayer,  and  the  in- 
spiration of  the  Scriptures,  but  denounce  those  who  cling  to  them  as 
the  hope  and  joy  of  their  souls  ?  Does  this  vaunted  charity,  look  in 
only  one  direction,  and  that  away  from  the  cross  of  Christ  ?  *  *  * 
The  Unitarian  denomination  have  lately,  we  believe,  through  some 
of  their  public  men  and  journals,  and  recognition  of  pastors,  given 
frequent  signs  of  cordial  favor  to  men,  honest  no  doubt,  who  have 
no  belief  in  the  Divine  authority  of  revelation,  in  the  infallibility 
and  supernatural  works  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  need  of  a  radical  re- 
newing of  the  human  heart,  in  the  efficacy  of  prayer  as  bringing  us 
direct  help  from  God,  beyond  the  effects  wrought  in  the  natural 
operations  of  the  human  mind,  or  in  the  personal  presence  of  the 
Saviour  in  His  Church.  It  only  remains  to  cast  off  those  who  hold 
opposite  convictions,  to  complete  the  severance  of  the  denomination 
from  historical  Christianity  and  evangelical  religion." 

In  these  paragraphs,  replete  with  thought  and  suggestion,  we  see 
the  strong  tendencies  of  the  man.  He  is  the  leader  of  those  who 
have  come  to  be  styled,  in  popular  phrase,  "  Evangelical  Unitarians." 
He  looks  for  a  new  development,  or  a  new  expression  of  Christianity. 
He  anticipates  "  a  Church  of  the  Future,"  embracing  all  existing 
denominations,  on  a  new  and  more  comprehensive  basis.  But  he 
thinks  that  no  planning  or  scheming  can  evolve  it ;  that  it  must  be 
born,  not  of  human  purposes,  but  of  God's  spirit.  He  thinks  that  it 
will  unite  those  among  the  orthodox  who  are  called  Unitarian  with 
those  among  the  Unitarians  who  are  called  orthodox,  as  well  as 
those  Christians  who  will  not  connect  themselves  with  any  denomi- 
nation, either  because  of  their  strong  dislike  for  sectarianism,  or  of 
their  disapproval  of  a  creed  as  the  door  of  admission. 

The  movement  among  the  Unitarians  which  he  represents,  and  which 


FREDERICK    D.    HUXTINGTON. 

•we  are  inclined  to  think  is  rather  exceptional  than  general,  is  stigma- 
tized as  a  "  return  to  Caldnism"  by  those  who  represent,  under  the 
term  "  Cahinism,"  exaltation  of  the  creed  above  the  hfe,  God's  love 
lost  sight  of  in  His  absorbing  justice,  and,  perhaps,  illiberahty  and 
bigotry ;  though  they  would  by  no  means  charge  Professor  Hunting- 
ton either  Anth  these  views  or  with  this  illiberal  spirit ;  but  rather 
expressing  in  that  formula  disapproval  of  the  movement.  Of  course 
Professor  Huntington  strongly  objects  to  such  nomenclature,  insist- 
ing that  the  movement  should  not  be  identified  with  any  name  of 
the  Past  or  Present.  "For  while  one  saith,  I  arn  of  Paul,  and 
another,  I  am  of  Apollos,  are  ye  not  carnal  ?  Who  then  is  Paul,  or 
who  is  xYpollos,  but  ministers  by  whom  ye  beUeved  ?  Therefore  let 
no  man  glory  in  men.  For  all  things  are  yours  ;  -whether  Paul  or 
Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life,  or  death,  or  things  present, 
or  things  to  come ;  all  are  yours ;  and  ye  are  Christ's ;  and  Christ 
is  God's."  He  believes  that  questions  should  be  discussed  in  their 
principles,  and  not  in  their  advocates ;  and  we  think  he  would  deny 
also  that  the  strictly  orthodox  stand  now  on  the  platform  of  Calvin,  as 
they  profess  to  do.  He  feels  that  little  progi-ess  will  be  made  to- 
wards a  fusion  of  the  Unitarian  and  Orthodox,  while  names  hold  such 
potent  sway ;  and  especially  while  the  religions  journals  are,  for  the 
most  part,  so  denunciative  and  bitter  in  tone,  and  so  contentious  in 
spirit.  His  views  of  union  are  tolerated  by  the  Christian  Register 
of  Boston,  opposed  by  the  Christian  Inquirer  of  New  York,  and  re- 
garded with  heart-felt  sympathy  by  those  of  the  orthodox  who  think 
that  the  development  of  the  great  spiritual  verities,  believed  every 
where,  and  by  all  Christians,  should  not  be  limited  by  peculiar  dia- 
lectics or  special  tenninology. 

The  following  statement  of  the  suggested  reunion  of  the  Evangelical 
and  Unitarian  Congregationalists  is  from  the  pen  of  an  influential 
Unitarian  clergyman  of  Massachusetts : 

"  Some  five  and  thirty  years  ago,  when  the  policy  of  the  Calvin- 
istic  section  of  the  Congregational  body,  in  excluding  the  Unitarian 
section  from  all  Christian  fellowship,  was  fairly  settled,  there  was 
not  wanting  wise  men  among  the  Orthodox  who  declared  that  it 
was  a  mistaken  policy,  which  would  by  and  by  be  regretted.     They 


UNION   OF   CONGREGATIONALISTS.  297 

knew  how  difficult  it  is  to  heal  a  division,  especially  one  which  has 
been  confirmed  by  religious  tradition  and  all  the  prejudices  of  early 
education.  They  felt  that  the  position  which  Calvinism  then  took 
was  a  departure  from  the  radical  Protestant  doctrine  and  the  proper 
principles  of  the  New  England  Independents.  But  they  had  small 
influence  in  the  councils  which  zealots  of  the  faith  controlled.  The 
decree  went  out  that  the  Unitarians  must  be  dealt  with  as  heretics, 
excluded  from  the  courtesies  of  the  Church,  denied  the  Christian 
name,  and  deprived  as  far  as  possible  of  all  religious  consideration. 
The  lines  were  drawn  between  belief  and  unbelief.  The  Unitarians 
were  driven,  in  self-defence,  to  combine  and  become  a  sect,  and 
from  this  to  assume  in  some  particulars  an  aggressive  position.  In 
a  little  time,  the  voices  on  either  side  which  had  spoken  for  union 
ceased  to  be  heard,  shai-p  controversy  quite  silenced  all  prophecy  of 
peace ;  the  elders,  whose  differing  opinions  did  not  break  their  fel- 
lowship, died  one  after  another,  and  to  the  new  generation  the 
Orthodox  and  Unitarian  bodies  were  as  widely  distinct  as  the  Ortho- 
dox and  Catholic  Churches.  Probably  most  of  the  lay-members  in 
existing  Congregational  churches  have  no  idea  that  any  union 
between  the  Orthodox  and  Unitarian  bodies  ever  existed ! 

"  The  time  which  those  wise  men  of  the  Orthodox  body  predicted 
has  now  nearly  or  quite  come.  There  are  many  now  who  regret 
that  difference  in  a  few  points  of  faith,  or  in  the  interpretation  of 
the  phrases  of  a  few  formulas,  should  separate  those  whose  sympa- 
thies, whose  practical  purpose,  and  whose  most  important  and  posi- 
tive faith  would  bring  them  together.  The  Orthodox  are  discovering 
that  men,  whom  they  are  ecclesiastically  bound  to  shut  out  from 
Christian  intercourse,  are  really  nearer  to  them  than  many  whom 
they  ecclesiastically  acknowledge.  They  are  dissatisfied  with  the 
narrow  position  which  they  are  compelled  to  occupy,  and  long  to 
get  rid  of  the  necessity  of  sacrificing  real  affinities  to  traditional  and 
nominal  hatreds.  They  are  inquiring  the  way  of  reconciliation. 
The  Orthodox  journals,  indeed,  do  not  say  much  about  it,  for  it 
would  not  be  prudent  so  to  do  ;  a  religious  newspaper  of  large  cir- 
culation must  always  follow  at  a  respectful  distance  the  opinions  of 
its  party.     But  in  private  the  way  of  reconciliation  between  the 


298  FREDERICK   D.   HUNTIXGTON. 

Unitarians  and  the  Orthodox  is  much  talked  about,  and  is  a  matter 
of  serious  moment  to  many  eminent  men  in  the  latter  body.  There 
are  some  who  have  come  to  the  point  of  believing  such  reconcilia- 
tion to  be  fit,  necessary,  and  near  in  time,  though  they  cannot  tell 
exactly  how  it  is  to  be  brought  about,  more  than  the  Abolitionists 
can  tell  how  slavery  is  to  be  brought  to  an  end.  They  only  know 
that  the  present  apparent  division  is  awkward,  inconvenient,  and 
wrong,  and  are  ready  to  agree  to  any  feasible  method  of  getting  rid 
of  it.  We  are  confident  that  the  class  of  Orthodox  men  who  have 
this  feeling  is  considerable,  both  in  numbers  and  in  ability,  and  is 
daily  growing. 

"  The  Unitarians,  we  think,  are  not,  as  a  body,  particularly  anxious 
for  a  formal  recognition  by  their  Orthodox  relatives.  They  do  not 
pine  under  the  long  disgrace  of  heresy  which  has  been  fastened  to 
their  name,  nor  are  they  uneasy  because  they  fail  of  full  fellowship 
from  those  whom  time  has  brought  nearly  back  to  them.  Yet  one 
who  has  Observed  the  tone  of  much  of  the  recent  writing  in  Unitarian 
books  and  journals,  cannot  help  seeing  that  phrases  which  have  an 
Orthodox  sound  are  more  agreeable  than  they  were  formerly,  and 
that  doctrines  are  not  now  so  unpalatable  because  they  seem  to  be 
Orthodox.  Those  gentlemen  of  other  denominations  who  attended 
upon  the  first  day's  session  of  our  last  Convention  in  Providence, 
could  not  have  been  disturbed  by  any  sound  of  heresy.  An  outsider 
might  have  imagined  himself  in  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Missions 
or  of  the  Tract  Society,  more  harmonious  in  sentiment  than  are  the 
usual  meetings  of  those  ponderous  bodies.  We  do  not  believe  that 
the  Unitarians  are  any  more  Orthodox  in  doctrine  now  than  they 
have  been  ever  since  their  average  faith  has  been  settled ;  or  that 
the  pith  and  marrow  of  Galvanism  is  at  all  agreeable  to  their  taste. 
But  it  were  uncandid  to  deny  that  a  tone  of  discourse,  which  resem- 
bles that  of  the  Orthodox  body,  finds  a  growing  favor  in  their  ranks. 
The  fears  or  the  hopes  that  Unitarians  are  going  over  to  the  Ortho- 
dox body,  are,  we  think,  alike  idle.  We  do  not  know  the  first  man 
in  the  connection  who  would  be  willing  to  sign  any  creed  that  Cal- 
vinism ever  framed.  Yet  the  use  of  language  in  conference  meet- 
ings, in  convention  speeches,  in  sermons,  and  in  devotional  books 


UNION   OF   CONGREGATIONALISTS.  299 

which  are  issued  by  the  connection  itself,  with  its  stamp  of  approval, 
warrants  the  belief  that  a  large  number  of  Unitarians  are  not  averse 
to  reconciliation,  if  it  can  be  brought  about. 

"  A  virtual  reconciliation  has  been  for  some  time  in  progress,  on 
the  neutral  ground  of  practical  ethics  and  social  refonn.  The  great 
moral  causes  in  which  Unitarians  have  been,  if  not  foremost,  always 
prominent,  have  brought  them  into  joint  action  with  the  Oiihodox, 
and  suggested  a  revision  of  the  extreme  theological  judgments  on 
either  hand.  The  gigantic  growth  of  Materialism  has  tm-ned  the  di- 
rection of  warfare,  and  made  allies  of  those  who  were  ancient  enemies. 
There  is  an  established  moral  co-operation  in  the  strife  with  vice  in 
every  form,  and  in  favor  of  education,  temperance,  equal  laws,  and 
noble  charities,  which  no  sectarian  cry  can  hinder.  Those  organs  of 
either  party  which  set  positive  philanthropy  above  the  affairs  of  sect, 
are  prized,  used,  and  freely  praised  by  numbers  on  the  opposite  side. 
Unitarians  read  the  'Independent'  newspaper  almost  as  much  as 
their  own  journals.  Orthodox  men  are  eager  to  get  the  works  of 
Channing.  In  Lyceum  lectures  men  hear  with  delight  the  utter- 
ances, which  are  only  sermons  a  little  secularized.  Mr.  Chapin  and 
Mr.  Beecher,  Dr.  Osgood  and  Dr.  Storrs,  preach  all  over  the  country, 
in  that  form,  what  they  preach  in  their  own  pulpits,  and  the  people 
listen  and  applaud.  So  genuine  is  this  practical  reconciliation,  that 
many  do  not  care  for  any  thing  more.  Why  should  we  be  troubled 
that  we  are  not  called  Christians  on  official  occasions,  if  the  Orthodox 
are  willing  to  hear  what  we  have  to  say,  to  give  us  all  the  room 
which  we  ask,  and  refuse  none  of  those  courtesies  which  help  life  to 
go  on  pleasantly  ?  K  real  sympathy  exists,  in  matters  which  are 
most  important,  why  should  we  vex  ourselves  about  the  trifle  of  min- 
isterial exchanges,  or  the  feeble  protests  of  timid  sectarians,  who 
would  hold  back  the  spirit  of  the  age  ?  The  lecture  committees,  of 
New  England,  do  not  send  to  East  Windsor  or  Bangor  to  know 
whom  it  is  proper  to  invite,  or  lay  for  approval  their  list  of  names 
before  the  good  brethren  who  gather  in  conference  meetings. 

"  This  actual  sympathy,  however,  does  not  satisfy  all.  There  are 
those  who  want  some  sort  of  a  union  in  matters  purely  ecclesiastical ; 
a  mutual  recognition  of  the  Christian  position  of  both  bodies ;  a  re- 


300  FKEDERICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

newal  of  ministerial  exchanges,  to  some  extent,  basing  these  on  per- 
sonal friendship,  rather  than  on  exact  similarity  of  creed ;  union  in 
pastoral  associations,  in  religious  anniversaries,  at  dedications,  ordi- 
nations, and  the  like.  The  difficulties  in  the  "way  of  such  mutual 
recognition,  will  not,  we  are  persuaded,  be  found  on  the  side  of  the 
Unitarians,  unless  they  are  required  to  limit  or  to  relinquish  their 
cherished  doctrine  of  perfect  individual  freedom.  K  fellowship  with 
their  Orthodox  brethren  requires  that  they  renounce  fellowship  with 
all  in  their  own  connection,  whose  studies  must  have  led  them  in  the 
direction  of  Rationalism,  or  whose  criticism  of  the  Scriptures  may 
seem  freer  than  the  criticism  of  the  old  standard  books ;  requires 
them  to  set  up  any  test,  whether  of  scholarship  or  theological  the- 
ory, they  will  not  ask  for  the  boon  at  such  a  price.  They  will  not 
leave  their  broad  platform  to  stand  on  the  narrow  platform  of  Ortho- 
doxy, however  pleasant  the  company  there  may  be.  Nor  will  they 
multiply  disclaimers  of  sympathy  with  the  lax  speculations  in  their 
own  body,  for  the  sake  of  assuring  their  Orthodox  friends.  They 
will  not  read  out  pharisaically  any  from  their  ranks  to  get  the 
agreeable  name  of  '  brother'  from  those  who  dread  the  contamina- 
tion of  heresy. 

"  The  union  of  the  two  branches  of  the  Congregational  body  can 
never  be  on  the  ground  of  a  creed^  neither  of  any  creed  now  existing, 
or  of  any  creed  formed  by  compromise.  So  long  as  formulas  meas- 
ure fellowship,  no  matter  how  comprehensive,  vague,  or  elastic  they 
may  be,  the  liberal  party  can  never  be  in  ecclesiastical  bonds  with 
the  strict.  When  the  Orthodox  cease  to  make  creed  their  test,  and 
take  the  earnestness  and  singleness  of  faith,  and  not  its  amount,  as 
the  sign  of  a  Christian  behef ;  when  they  will  receive  the  fruits  of 
godly  living,  and  the  zeal  for  practical  righteousness,  as  evidence  that 
we  are  fit  to  dwell  with  them  as  brethren ;  when  they  will  go  back 
to  the  old  Protestant  principle  of  individual  freedom  in  opinion,  as  in 
action,  then  the  ancient  union  may  be  restored,  the  differences  healed, 
and  the  Congregational  body  stand  in  bolder  and  grander  strength 
than  it  has  ever  stood.  Until  that  time,  we  must  be  content  with 
the  quiet  sympathy — not  powerless  for  good  because  it  is  fettered 
by  forms   and  prejudices — which  comes  outside   of  our  nominal 


UNION   OF  CONGKEGATIONALISTS. 


301 


Churcli  establishments.    We  do  not  believe  tbat  the  real  affiliation 
of  formerly  hostile  parties  is  retarded  seriously  by  the  former  hm- 
drances  which  trouble  those  who  would  see  it  complete.     An  at- 
tempt to  hasten  the  union  by  any  special  expedients,  might  do  more 
harm  than  good.     We  are  doubtful  even  if  the  Congregational  body 
would  at  present  work  so  efficiently  in  its  union  as  by  its  division. 
The  spirit  of  creed  is  not  yet  quite  overcome  by  the  spint  of  .mion. 
The  sentiment  must  become  so  general  that  it  will  dare,  on  official 
occasions,  to  declare  itself,  before  the  act  of  union  will  have  any  gen- 
uine  vitality.    We  shall  not  regard  rare  instances  of  pulpit  exchange 
between  ministers  of  the  two  connections,  who  may  have  strong  per- 
sonal as  well  as  theological  sympathies,  as  any  sign  of  a  near  gen- 
eral union.     We  shall  wait  for  the  journals  to  express  their  desire, 
before  we  predict  any  important  change  from  the  present  relation  of 

the  two  bodies. 

"Meanwhile,  whatever  slight  changes  may  come  m  the  styled 
expression  among  Unitarians,  concerning  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel ; 
however  much  some  may  seem  to  lean  towards  Orthodox  theories 
we  believe  that  Unitari'ans  are   satisfied  with   their  ecclesiastical 
basis-that  of  peri'ect  individual  freedom-and  that  they  are  pre- 
pared to  adopt,  as  their  own,  these  words  of  Schleiermacher,  which 
we  find  quoted  in  the  last  number  of  the  Christian  Examiner: 
•With  the  greatest  astonishment,  I  have  lately  read,  in  an  article  ot 
an  academic  theologian,  that  it  is  the  fundamental  character  of 
Protestantism  to  base  itself  upon  unchangeable  written  foundations, 
and  especially  to  place  the  clergy  under  the  law  of  an  inviolable 
church  constitution.    It  seems  to  me,  in  truth,  as  if  I  was  suddenly 
enveloped  in  darkness,  and  obliged  to  go  to  the  door,  to  come  out 
into  the  free  light.     And  certainly  so  will  many  feel  who  are  as  little 
rationalistic  as  I.    If,  instead  of  the  noble  principle  of  freedom,  that 
no  assembly  has  the  right  to  establish  articles  of  faith,  this  other 
doctrine  should  be  adopted,  I  would  rather  be  in  a  church-fellowship 
which  allows  free  inquiry  and  peaceful  controversy  with  all  Ration- 
alists if  they  only  admit  a  confession  of  Christ,  and,  from  convic- 
tion,'continue  to  call  themselves  Christians,  and  even  with  those 
whose  forms  of  doctrine  I  have  most  positively  spoken  against,  than 


302  FREDERICK   D.    HUNTIXGTON. 

be  shut  up  witli  those  other  in  an  intrenchment  made  by  the  rigid 
letter.'" 

We  append  an  article  by  Professor  Huntington,  which,  though 
long,  cannot  be  condensed.  It  appeared  in  the  February  number  of 
his  Magazine,  which,  it  is  observable,  at  the  same  time,  was  issued 
with  a  new  name,  as  "  The  Monthly  Religious  Magazine,  and  Inde- 
2)endent  JournaV  The  article  is  headed  "  Remarks  on  the  preced- 
ing Letter,"  which  letter  (signed  with  the  well-known  initials  of 
"  E.  B.  H.")  was  a  review  of  a  sermon  by  Rev.  S.  W.  S.  Dutton  of 
New  Haven,  on  "  The  relation  of  the  Atonement  to  Holiness,"  pub- 
lished in  the  preceding  number  of  his  Magazine,  with  the  following 
introduction  : 

"  We  can  do  our  readers  no  better  service  than  to  reprint  entire 
Rev.  Mr.  Button's  Concio  ad  Clenan,  delivered  before  the  General 
Association  of  Connecticut  last  July.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  it  received  the  evident  and  full  approbation  of  that  rather  ortho- 
dox body ;  though  we  are  aware  that  to  mention  this  circumstance 
will  prejudice  its  reception  with  some  persons  whose  liberality  is 
rather  in  name  than  in  reality.  Others  will  not  fail  to  be  nourished 
by  the  truths  it  so  fervently  proclaims,  finding  something  there  that 
meets  their  hearts,  and  gratified  by  the  encouragement  it  gives  to 
the  hope  that  clear  and  consistent  statements  shall  yet  be  found  out 
for  vital  theological  doctrines,  in  which  earnest  Christian  behevers 
can  agree.  Here  and  there,  amidst  the  gathering  and  glowing 
grandeur  of  that  sublime  harmony  which  is  yet  to  blend  the  praises, 
and  voice  the  faith,  of  reconciled  sects,  some  little  shriek  of  discord 
is  heard,  both  on  one  side  and  the  other,  petulantly  protesting  that 
the  promises  are  illusory,  that  the  unity  is  as  far  oS  as  ever,  and  the 
occasion  for  quarrel  perpetual.  It  is  good  to  collect  and  present 
the  evidences  to  the  contrary.  Besides  those  that  are  public,  there 
is  a  private  volume  of  them  accumulating,  from  which  the  seals 
will  some  time  be  taken  oflf  by  the  Providence  that  orders  history." 

The  reader  is  now  ready  for  Professor  Huntington's  article 

On  the  Atonement. 
**  The  communication  presented  above  will  obtain  a  respectful  con 


VIEWS   OF  THE   ATONEMENT. 


803 


sideration  among  all  our  readers,  both  for  its  eandor,  and  forthe 
esteem  everywhere  felt  for  its  signature.     It  reached  us  too  late  m 
the  month  for  a  thorough  examination  in  the  present  nmnber ;  and 
we  are  not  without  hope  that  the  author  of  the  Sermon  cntaeised 
may  speak  for  himself  through  our  pages.    Meantime,  we  se>ze  the 
opportunity  to  suggest  rapidly  a  few  thoughts  on  the  subject,  for 
which  justice,  and  love  of  truth,  seem  to  ask  a  patient  hearmg.     In 
many  respects,  the  present  time  offers  encouragements  to  a  revision 
of  the  old  New  England  controversy.     It  is  not  unreasonable  to 
believe  that  there  are  minds  of  sufficient  breadth,  in  both  the  par- 
ties, to  understand  that  the  whole  truth  does  not  probably  reside 
with  either  one.    Local  intimacy,  the  course  of  events,  providential 
appointments,  a  better  appreciation  of  historical  antecedents,  and  a 
happier  interpretation,  on  both  sides,  of  controversial  language,  have 
prepared  a  state  of  things  where  each  system  may  look  for  fair 
dealing  at  least  from  its  old  antagonist.     Certainly  it  is  a  poor 
comment  on  both  of  them,  if  it  must  be  said  that  they  are  not  able, 
by  this  time,  to  fmnish  persons  who  can  conduct  a  public  discus- 
sion of  their  differences  without  a  heated  temper  and  acrimonious 

aspersions. 

"I  The  Unitarian  mind  needs  to  disabuse  itself  of  the  impres- 
sion that  the  Orthodox  view  of  the  atonement  separates  the  Father 
from  the  Sou  in  the  atoning  work.     Here  is  a  natural  ground  of 
misapprehension.     The  preceding  'Letter'  seems   to  be  sbghtly 
colored  by  it.    The  Unitarian  is  in  the  habit  of  drawing  a  sharp 
distinction  between  the  nature  of  God  and  the  nature  o    Christ; 
and,  accordingly,  when  he  hears  it  affirmed  that  Christ  s  death 
accompUshed  for  man  a  salvation  which  could  have  been  achieved 
in  no  other  way,  he  objects  that  this  takes  the  efficient  cause  of 
human  salvation  out  of  the  hands  of  God,  and  puts  it  into  the 
hands  of  another  and  an  inferior  being.     The  great  office  of  re- 
demption is  then  said  to  be  exhibited  as  origivAting  in  another  will 
than  God's,  while  God  merely  accepts  it.    Of  course,  the  Dmne 
Character  is  felt  to  be  wronged.     Instead  of  bestowing  on  the  be- 
liever the  gift  of  eternal  life,  and  pardoning  his  sins,  God  is  here 
supposed  (says  the  Unitarian)  to  become  merely  a  party  to  a  plan, 


304:  FKEDERICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

or  scheme,  devised  and  brought  in  by  another,  to  meet  an  emergency 
in  the  divine  administration.  He  accedes  to  a  measure  not  em- 
braced within  the  range  of  his  own  primal,  consistent,  and  eternal 
way  of  saving  the  world.  At  this  theory, — which  is  really  no- 
body's theory,  but  only  a  misconstruction  of  a  theory, — reverence 
necessarily  revolts.  But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  those  who 
adopt  the  view  of  the  atonement  presented  in  the  Sermon  are  en- 
cumbered with  no  such  difficulty,  because  they  recognize  no  suck 
distinction  between  the  Father  and  the  Son.  "Were  it  possible  for 
them  to  conceive  of  God  separate  from  Christ,  they  would  say,  per- 
haps, that  the  redemption  is  as  much  the  Father's  as  if  there  were 
no  Son,  only  they  cannot  so  conceive  of  Him.  The  Father  and  the 
Son  are  completely  and  altogether  at  unity  in  the  redemptive  plan. 
It  is  no  more  peculiar  to  the  one  than  to  the  other.  Whatever 
popular  representations  of  the  doctrine  an  inadequate  rhetoric  may 
have  been  driven  to  adopt,  it  is  not  really  held  that  the  Son  pro- 
posed, and  the  Father  agreed, — that  the  Son  made  an  overture 
which  the  Father  accepted ;  but  that  both  are  one,  in  the  design 
and  the  consummation.  And  they  always  have  been  one  in  this. 
Christ's  mediatorial  and  reconciling  office  was  an  element  in  the 
everlasting  providence  and  grace  for  mankind.  It  was  not  a  con- 
trivance sought  out,  or  got  up,  for  an  emergency.  It  was,  from  the 
beginning,  in  the  counsels  and  the  foreseeing  compassion  of  the  self- 
existent  Father,  and  of  the  only  and  eternally-begotten  Son  dwelling 
forever  in  His  "bosom..  Nor  is  this  belief  necessarily  confined  to  any 
Trinitarian  sect.  It  belongs  to  all  who  put  this  depth  and  width  of 
meaning  on  the  Saviour's  words  :  '  I  and  my  Father  are  one.'  To 
deny,  therefore,  the  indispensableness  of  Christ's  atonement,  on  the 
ground  that  it  transfers  power  or  sufficiency  away  from  God,  is 
impertinent  as  an  argument  addressed  to  them  that  believe  in  that 
indispensableness.  Orthodoxy  has  not  fallen  into  so  superficial  a 
fallacy,  and  is  not  likely  to  be  affected  by  a  reiteration  of  this  fa- 
miliar criticism. 

"  II.  Much  the  same  might  be  said  of  the  often-repeated  charge, 
— not  brought  forward,  however,  in  this  '  Letter,' — that  Orthodoxy 
makes  the  Father  to  impersonate  Vengeance  or  Retributive  Law,  or 


VIEWS   OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  305 

even  Justice,  and  the  Son  to  impersonate  Love.  It  is  a  valid  refuta- 
tion of  that  charge,  that  every  careful  and  responsible  Orthodox 
statement  of  the  work  of  the  atonement  exhibits  it  as  the  highest 
and  crowning  proof  of  God's  compassion.  Through  whatever  form, 
framework,  and  interaction  of  persons,  the  great  result  is  worked  out, 
no  Orthodoxy  can  be  quite  stupid  enough  to  contradict  such  texts  as 
that  one  which  declares  that '  Ood  so  loved  the  world  thxit  He  gave 
His  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not 
perish ;  for  God  sent  not  His  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world, 
but  that  the  world  through  Him  might  be  saved ;'  and  hundreds 
more,  to  the  same  purport,  on  the  pages  of  the  New  Testament  If 
we  were  to  begin  quoting  passages  from  Orthodox  authorities,  to 
show  that  they  uniformly  ascribe  the  merciful  dispositions  mani- 
fested in  the  redemption  to  the  Father,  we  should  not  know  where 
to  stop.  Is  it  quite  worthy  of  the  intelligence  or  the  honesty  of 
liberal  Christians  to  continue  to  urge  an  absurd  accusation,  and  one 
that  is  sure  to  rebound  because  of  its  absurdity  ?  Why  not  bring 
the  censure  to  the  true  point  of  fault,  which  is,  simply  (in  regard  to 
the  matter  now  immediately  before  us),  the  point  of  an  erroneous 
verbal  representation?  "We  do  not  beheve,  that,  in  the  general 
Orthodox  consciousness  and  heart,  the  accepted  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment puts  a  repulsive  aspect  upon  the  character  of  God,  honors  the 
Son  by  dishonoring  the  Father,  or  removes  the  Father  to  a  frigid 
distance.  We  do  not  believe  any  competent  representative  of  Ortho- 
doxy will  allow  for  a  moment,  or  hear  it  alleged  without  pain,  that 
his  system  permits  any  sort  of  real  comparison  of  attributes,  much 
less  contrast,  competition,  or  antagonism,  between  Persons  in  the 
Godhead.  Some  of  the  most  tender  and  beautiful  instances  we  have 
ever  known  of  filial  and  afiectionate  relations  with  the  Father  have 
been  among  those  that  were  reared  under  the  ordinary  Orthodox  in- 
struction, and  were  firm  in  that  faith.  On  the  other  hand,  we  as 
fully  believe  that  Orthodox  writers  and  preachers  are  a  good  deal  in 
the  habit  of  using  phraseology  on  this  subject  as  objectionable  as  it 
is  unscriptural, — phraseology  which  their  own  cooler  definitions 
■would  disclaim, — phraseology  that  is  liable  to  be  misunderstood  by 
individuals,  and  to  prove  a  scandal  with  them,  and  which  trans- 
20 


306  FREDEKICK   D.    HUNTINGTON. 

gresses  all  reasonable  latitudes  of  dramatic  illustration.  We  have 
heard  such  metai^hors  and  tropes  in  this  kind,  from  able  and  devout 
Orthodox  theologians,  in  public  discourse,  as  have  shocked  our 
whole  religious  sense,  and  made  us  wish  ourselves  out  of  the  house, 
and  yet  have  received  from  the  same  tongues,  in  private  conversa- 
tion, doctrinal  statements  on  the  same  points  to  which  we  could 
take  no  sort  of  exception.  Nor  was  there  the  least  intentional  or 
conscious  incongruity.  The  Church  is  rent  asunder  and  disordered 
by  words.  Each  sect  has  a  certain  set  of  phrases,  a  traditional  lan- 
guage, a  style  of  representation,  which  amounts  to  a  dialect  by 
itself,  and  which  often  appears,  to  men  of  a  different  denomination 
and  training,  either  disgusting,  irreverent,  extravagant,  or  perhaps 
profanely  cold.  Dialogue  will  sometimes  cast  it  off.  If  we  cannot 
get  near  enough  to  each  other,  and  listen  forbearingly  enough  to 
each  other,  to  lay  hold  of  actual  meanings  and  interpretations,  it 
appears  to  us  we  have  been  bora  in  the  wrong  age,  or,  at  any  rate, 
need  to  be  born  again. 

"  in.  What  has  been  most  offensive  to  Unitarians-^as  we  have 
always  supposed — in  the  Calvinistic  doctrine  of  the  Cross,  is  its  vi- 
carious element — the  idea  of  substituted  penalty.  The  'Letter^ 
implies,  in  a  qualiJfied  form,  that  this  notion  is  to  be  found  in  Mr. 
Dutton's  Sermon.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  conspicuously  absent  from^ 
that  Sermon.  In  any  shape  which  would  conflict  with  the  Divine 
equity,  or  with  personal  responsibility,  or  with  the  obligations  ot 
righteousness,  such  a  notion,  we  venture  to  say,  is  emphatically  re- 
jected by  the  most  enlightened  and  effective  class  of  Orthodox 
thinkers  in  New  England.  They  do  not  employ  the  word  vicarious^ 
nor  accept  the  philosophy.  One  object  we  had  in  reprinting  a  dis- 
course from  one  of  the  New  Haven  school  of  divines,  was  to  display 
this  fact.  If  any  one  supposes  the  old  Calvinistic  ground  is  held, 
on  this  subject,  by  the  minas  which  best  indicate  the  tendencies  in 
the  Orthodox  Congregational  body,  it  must  be  because  he  has  failed 
to  keep  himself  acquainted  with  the  course  of  thought  in  that  body 
for  the  last  twenty-five  years. 

"  IV.  But  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  the  view  commonly  called 
Orthodox,  and  presented  by  Mr.  Dutton,  differs  from  the  proper 


TIEWS   OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  307 

Unitarian  view ;  and  a  large  part  of  our  interest  in  it  arises  from 
this  circumstance.  Without  undertaking  Mr.  Button's  defence,  we 
should  be  glad  to  bespeak  for  the  system  he  represents  a  new  and 
unprejudiced  inquiry  among  liberal  people.  The  idea  may  be 
briefly  stated,  we  think,  thus  :  Christ  died  for  the  world,  because  it 
was  not  consistent  with  the  rectitude,  the  wisdom,  and  the  mercy, 
of  the  divine  government,  that  those  who  had  broken  its  laws 
should  be  treated  as  if  they  had  not  broken  them,  without  such  a 
suffering;  while  the  di^nne  method,  including  such  suffering  and 
such  a  Sufferer,  opens  a  consistent  way  for  the  pardon  and  accept- 
ance of  the  sinner,  with  no  detriment  to  the  sanctities  of  law,  and 
no  danger  of  loosening  the  foundations  of  a  righteous  judgment, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  affords  a  signal  and  glorious  manifestation  of 
spiritual  love.  Now,  a  priori^  what  moral  or  logical  objection  lies 
against  this  statement  ?  Is  it  not  for  God  to  determine  for  Himself 
the  way  in  which  He  will  carry  forward  the  administration  of  the 
universe,  accomplish  His  beneficent  ends,  and  reconcile  to  Himself 
those  that  have  slighted  His  promises,  insulted  His  affection,  and 
plunged  away  from  Him  ?  K  we,  with  our  short-sightedness,  our 
ignorance,  our  enfeebled  faculties,  and,  in  fact,  belonging  to  the 
guilty  party,  should  undertake  to  set  up  a  better  method  of  our 
own,  is  it  not  likely  we  should  commit  some  blunder  ?  Still,  it  is 
said,  the  method  must  seem  to  comport  with  our  ideas  of  rectitude 
and  reason,  or  else  we  cannot  refer  it  to  God.  Is  either  rectitude  or 
reason  compromised,  then,  by  this  doctrine?  Whom  does  it  wrong? 
Not  God,  who  originates  it.  Not  Christ,  who  voluntarily  and  joy- 
fully— out  of  His  divine  sympathy  with  man's  misery,  and  longing 
for  his  deliverance,  and  prevision  of  the  sublime  issue — undertakes 
it.  Not  man  himself,  who,  if  he  will  comply  with  the  simple  con- 
ditions, accept  what  is  offered  him,  and  give  his  faith  to  the  Re- 
deemer, is  thereby  saved,  notwithstanding  his  offences.  Not  the 
abstract  principles  of  right  and  truth ;  for  there  is  no  commercial 
transfer  of  punishment,  nor  compulsion  of  the  unwilling,  nor  forcing 
the  innocent  into  the  place  of  the  guilty :  but  all  is  the  moral 
working  of  a  moral  administration,  according  to  the  laws  of  a 
moral  Governor  and  of  moral  impression  on  the  governed ;  and  the 


308  FKKDKKICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

whole  IS  supposed  to  be  openly  declared  beforehand.  "What  says 
reason  ?  We  confess  we  are  at  a  loss  to  discover  any  rational  pro- 
cess which  runs  against  man's  being  pardoned  and  saved  through 
Christ's  sufferings,  which  would  not  run  against  his  being  pardoned 
and  saved  on  any  condition  whatever,  so  long  as  those  sufferings 
are  voluntary,  represent  to  us  the  very  highest  possible  instance  of 
disinterested  goodness,  and  release  no  single  offender  without  the 
penitence,  trust,  holy  effort,  and  entire  spiritual  state,  which  any  plan 
of  salvation  must  contemplate,  superadding  the  most  interesting  and 
endearing  relations  to  a  personal  divine  Deliverer.  And  the  logical 
value  of  a  system  which  provides  some  sort  of  moral  equivalent  for 
the  universal  violation  of  a  perfect  law,  in  the  balance  of  a  complete 
government,  seems  to  us  quite  as  great  as  that  of  a  system  which 
leaves  mediation  out,  and  says,  merely,  '  Obey  my  law  in  every 
thing ;  but  then,  if  you  do  not,  if  you  break  it  with  all  your  might, 
and  only  repent  afterwards,  you  shall  be  treated  just  as  if  you  had 
done  what  I  commanded.'  But  if  any  one,  without  pretending  to 
adduce  strictures  either  of  reason  or  equity,  simply  rejects  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Atonement  because  it  does  not  happen  to  appear  neces- 
sary to  him,  such  an  attitude  would  seem  to  imply  nothing  but  vanity 
and  impiety. 

"  We  understand  the  '  Letter'  as  asking  why  one  should  beheve 
the  death  of  Christ  necessary  to  the  pardon  of  sin.  It  strikes  us 
that  one  veiy  obvious  reason  for  believing  so  is,  that  Christ  has  died. 
That  sacrifice  could  hardly  have  been  a  work  of  supererogation. 
But  we  can  go  farther — can  we  not  ?  We  can  suppose  the  Almighty 
to  have  said  thus :  *  Of  my  omniscience,  I  know  that  such  is  the 
constitution  of  man,  such  is  the  organization  of  things,  and  such 
would  be  the  historical  development  of  the  human  race,  that  to  par- 
don the  repenting  sinner  without  a  divine  mediation,  would,  on  the 
whole,  and  in  the  wide  result,  prove  a  lax  rule  of  government.  Un- 
lawful advantage  would  be  taken  of  that  indulgence.  Either  sin 
would  take  encouragement,  or  despair  would  palsy  effort.  Lo !  my 
beloved  Son  comes  forth,  by  His  own  free  suffering, — the  just  for  the 
unjust,  the  sinless  for  the  sinful,  the  divine  with  the  human, — to 
confirm  the  holy  demands  of  the  law,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  hold 


VIEWS   OF   THE    ATONEMENT.  309 

out  gentle  and  inviting  terms  of  release.  See  in  tliis  how  sacred 
and  awfid  is  the  majesty  of  the  commandment !  how  much  is  suf- 
fered for  it !  Accept,  believe  Him  in  that  character,  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved  !'  Is  there  any  thing  repulsive,  in-ational,  opposed  to  the 
character  of  God,  in  this  ?  We  may  not  be  able,  by  our  poor  defi- 
nitions, to  tell  completely  how  this  redemption  acts  to  open  the 
way;  we  may  not  know  how  to  apply  the  benefit  to  those  that  have 
not  known  the  Saviour's  name,  or  that  lived  before  he  was  mani- 
fested in  the  flesh.  It  would  be  strange  if  our  thoughts  or  words 
could  exhaust  such  a  mystery.  But  may  we  not  still  feel  assured, 
that,  as  an  organic  whole,  the  divine  administration  so  embraces  this 
element  of  mediation,  that  all  ages  and  lands  and  accepted  souls 
shall  feel  its  influence,  and  share  finally  in  its  blessing?  That 
righteous  heathen,  not  knowing  Christ  here,  should  yet  be  saved 
through  Him,  is  no  more  inexplicable,  than  that  righteous  heathen, 
not  knowing  God  the  Father,  should  be  saved  by  Him. 

"  V.  The  '  Letter'  inquires  earnestly  what  passages  of  Scriptiu^ 
countenance  the  doctrine  that  the  sufierings  of  Christ  are  necessary 
to  the  forgiveness  of  sin.  It  is  not  for  us  to  anticipate  Mr.  Button's 
reply.  "We  presume,  however,  he  would  cite  such  texts  as  the  fol- 
lowing ;  bearing  in  mind  that,  in  all  fair  questions  of  interpretation, 
he  would  be  likely  to  take  that  view  which  goes  most  to  sanction 
his  own  theology,  as  being  most  in  harmony  with  w^hat  he  would 
consider  the  main  drift  of  the  teachings  of  revelation :  '  Without 
the  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission.'  '  If  any  man  sin,  we  have  an 
Advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous;  and  he  is  the 
propitiation  for  our  sins,  and  not  for  ours  only,  but  also /or  the  sins 
of  the  whole  loorW  (rather  a  strong  text).  '  Who  needeth  not  daily 
to  offer  up  sacrifice,  as  those  high  priests,  first  for  his  own  sins,  and 
then  for  the  people's ;  for  this  he  did  once,  when  he  offered  up  him- 
self.' (Has  not  the  whole  magnificent  argument  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  this  scope — proving  Christ  to  be  a  Deliverer  universal  and 
eternal,  himself  both  Priest  and  Sacrifice  ?)  '  God  was  in  Christ, 
reconcihno^  the  world  to  himself.'  '  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  loorld  /^  '  This  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the 
Saviour  of  the  world.''     *  That  as  sin  had  reigned  unto  death,  even 


310  FBEDEKICK   D.    HUNTINGTON. 

SO  might  grace  reign  unto  righteousness  by  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.' 
'  There  is  no  other  name  given  under  heaven  wherehj  we  can  be 
saved.'  The  great  doctrine  of  the  apostles  was,  '  Christ  crucified^ 
Christ  and  the  cross,  Christ  the  Saviour  of  the  race  of  men  as  an 
organic  "whole.  '  The  bread  that  I  will  give  (not  yet  given)  is  my 
tiesh,  which  I  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world.'  '  He  died  for  all, 
that  they  which  live  should  not  live  unto  themselves.'  '  To  this 
end,  Christ  both  died  and  rose  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  living^  '  Jesus  Christ,  that  loved  us,  and 
washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood.'  '  By  his  own  blood  he 
obtained  eternal  redemption  for  us.'  'Feed  the  church  of  God, 
which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood.'  '  Being  now  justi- 
fied by  his  blood,  we  shall  be  saved  from  wrath  through  him.' 
'  How  much  more  shall  the  blood  of  Christ  purge  your  conscience 
from  dead  works.'  '  The  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant.'  '  Ye 
were  redeemed  \n\h  the  precious  blood  of  Christ.'  '  The  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all  sin.'  Now,  as  one  ponders  the 
singular  force  and  directness  and  agreement  of  these  passages,  and 
ver}^  many  more  of  the  same  import,  and  marks  their  cumulative 
power  as  they  resound  through  the  New  Testament,  we  submit  that 
it  wiW  not  be  strange  if  he  feels  that  on  those  who  believe  with 
the  author  of  the  *  Letter'  rests  the  burden  of  explaining  how,  ac- 
cording to  the  Bible,  the  death  of  Christ  is  not  the  divinely  ordained 
and  essential  ground  of  human  salvation,  and  that  something  pos- 
sessing vitality,  energy,  and  power,  has  been  left  out  of  the  system 
which  confines  the  eflScacy  of  that  death  to  the  noble  but  incidental 
influence  of  a  consistent  martyrdom.  There  is  some  reason  to  think 
that  passages  like  those  we  have  quoted  have  become  comparatively 
unfamiliar  to  Unitarian  ears,  by  having  been  dropped  out  of  Unita- 
rian preaching,  under  a  natural  persuasion  that  they  do  not  har- 
monize with  the  Unitarian  theory. 

"  The  Sermon  is  objected  to,  as  using  language  which  implies 
that  God  died.  We  have  no  wish  to  defend  any  such  language,  on 
the  score  of  taste,  or  reverence,  or  theological  accuracy.  We  think 
it  would  be  a  gain  if  the  Orthodox  pulpit  and  press  were  to  drop  it. 
It  has  no  clear  scriptm-al  sanction.     Yet,  even  here,  let  us  use  some 


VIEWS   OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  311 

forbearance.  Is  any  Unitarian  Tvild  enough  to  assert  or  imagine 
that  any  Calvinist  blasphemously  supposes  the  eternal  and  self- 
existent  Almighty  One  to  be  dead  ?  What  then  ?  Why,  we  must 
patiently  sit  down,  and  try  to  find  out  exactly  what  the  language 
does  mean,  and,  after  this  kind  appreciation,  seek,  if  we  will,  to  dis^ 
suade  its  authors  from  repeating  it,  for  the  reason  that  other  lan- 
guage, better  and  less  ofiensively,  expresses  that  meaning.  We  sup- 
pose the  idea  to  be  this  :  Christ,  whose  nature  is  God's  nature,  took 
upon  himself  a  human  body  and  a  human  experience,  and,  in  that 
body,  passed  through  the  sufiering  and  dissolution  which  we  call 
death,  fulfilhng  thereby  His  great  work  of  redeeming  man,  and  re- 
entered into  His  everlasting  and  heavenly  glory,  lifting  the  dying 
world  with  Him,  leading  captivity  captive,  and,  by  His  infinite  con- 
descension, bringing  many  sons  unto  glory.  The  central  thought  is, 
that  the  recovery  of  sinning  man  was  wrought  out,  as  it  must  be, 
by  the  voluntary  sujQfering  of  the  divine  nature  in  man's  behalf. 
There  is  an  unutterable  strength  in  the  tenderness  of  the  entreaty 
pronounced  by  such  sufiering.  It  moves  the  soul  as  nothing  else  in 
the  universe  can  move  it.  This  conviction  has  become  so  full  and 
so  dear  to  many  minds  of  Unitarian  education,  that  we  have  re- 
peatedly heard  of  late,  from  some  of  their  best  preachers,  such 
statements  as  that  the  redemption  of  the  sinner  was  *  costly  to  the 
mind  of  God.'  There  is  a  transcendent  philosophy,  an  adorable 
adaptation  of  boundless  love  and  wisdom  to  human  wants,  in  that 
mystery.  The  writer  of  the  'Letter'  will  not  question  that  the 
Scripture  says,  '  God  was  in  Christ,'  nor  that  Emmanuel,  His  name, 
signifies  '  God  with  us  ;'  and  yet  Christ  did  die.  In  all  reasonable- 
ness, we  must  acquit  the  Sermon — as,  indeed,  the  '  Letter'  is  in- 
clined to — of  intending  literally  to  teach  that  death  or  destruction 
took  efiect  upon  the  Divine  Being.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  too,  that  the 
resources  of  liberal  logic  will  be  able  to  spare  the  smart  little  epi- 
gram which  has  figured  so  bravely  in  Unitarian  polemics,  to  the 
efiect  that  Orthodoxy  makes  Jehovah  to  have  perished  to  appease 
His  own  anger,  inasmuch  as  it  purchases  a  complacent  conceit  at 
the  expense  of  a  double  falsehood.  As  an  ironical  satire  on  an  infe- 
licitous style  of  Orthodox  rhetoric,  it  is  more  justifiable. 


312  FREDERICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

"  How  far  the  governmental  aspect  of  the  atonement  presented  in 
the  Sermon  can  be  made  eflBcient  for  producing  repentance  and 
holiness,  through  the  public  discourse  of  the  pulpit,  depends  much, 
we  presume,  on  personal  gifts,  aflSnities,  habits  of  speech,  education, 
and  the  traditional  impressions  of  congregations.  "Wherever  it  is  so 
set  forward  as  to  intensify  man's  abhorrence  of  guilt,  and  heighten 
the  sanctity  of  God's  law,  its  effect  is  not  only  practical,  but,  as  it 
seems  to  us,  edifying  to  the  last  degree.  Why  any  one  should  be 
startled  or  disturbed  at  its  being  held  as  the  firm  and  \indicatory 
background  of  justice  in  the  representation  of  God's  boundless  love, 
is  something  we  cannot  understand.  Our  own  belief  is,  that  the 
chief  regenerating  results  of  the  preaching  of  the  cross  will  always 
be  realized  most  perfectly  where — theories  apart — the  death  of 
Christ  is  most  simply  and  affectingly  held  forth  as  the  one  supreme 
and  matchless  exhibition  of  the  love  of  God — His  pity.  His  long- 
suffering,  His  desire  for  man's  salvation.  "When  the  doctrine  has 
been  properly  guarded  against  abuse,  by  showing  its  harmony  with 
the  immutable  laws  and  equities  of  the  divine  character,  its  man- 
ward  action  must  always  be  of  principal,  immediate  interest  to  the 
soul  needing  redemption.  To  move,  to  melt,  to  change,  to  save  the 
hard  and  selfish  heart,  Christ  died ;  and  without  that  death  is  no 
remission.  That  the  eternal  Mind  should  have  foreseen,  from  the 
beginning,  that,  by  this  system  of  Messianic  redemption,  powers, 
affections,  spiritual  agencies  would  be  laid  hold  of,  and  brought  into 
glorious  exercise,  through  all  time,  which  otherwise  could  not  be 
reached,  seems  to  us  not  only  possible,  but  singularly  according  to 
our  own  experience  and  the  inspired  word,  ^^^ly  should  we  not 
bow  with  silent  and  joyful  gratitude  before  the  plan,  instead  of 
cavilling  and  doubting  ?  We  know  not  how  others  may  be  struck 
with  the  testimonies  of  history ;  but  for  ourselves,  as  we  turn  back 
on  the  line  of  holy  witnesses  since  the  first  age,  as  we  take  up 
biography  after  biography,  study  life  after  life,  follow  saint  after 
saint  to  his  victory  and  his  rest,  and  thus  grow  intimate  with  the 
great  fellowship  of  wise,  strong,  unyielding,  and  mightily  gifted 
thinkers  and  believers  of  the  Church,  and  listen  to  the  almost  undi- 
vided voice  of  confession  and  faith  coming  up  from  the  innumerable 


\^EWS    OF   THE   ATONEMENT.  313 

company,  declaring  Christ  Jesus  and  Him  crucified  the  ground  of 
their  hopes,  and  His  sufferings  the  great  pledge  of  pardon — with 
only  here  and  there  a  different  doctrine,  falling  in  cooler  accents 
from  some  exceptional  tongue — we  readily  own  that  we  must  recon- 
sider whether  there  is  not  some  element  of  blessed  power  here  that 
Unitarianism  has  overlooked  or  thrown  away.  We  are  not  sur- 
prised to  hear  from  many  brethren  hearty  utterances  of  the  same 
conviction. 

"  Now,  we  are  fully  mindful  that  none  of  our  statements  on  this 
great  subject  may  be  adequate,  or  even  correct ;  nay,  we  remember 
that  the  truth  itself  may  not  be  seen  by  any  of  us  as  it  will  yet  be 
seen  by  eyes  of  purer  vision,  or  as  it  really  is.  We  reserve  the  right 
of  modifying  our  statements  as  further  studies  and  new  convictions 
shall  require.  Be  dogmatism  far  away  fi'om  a  theme  so  holy  and  so 
affecting  as  this  !  Unless  we  entirely  misapprehend  the  expressions 
and  tendencies  of  Unitarian  belief,  there  is  a  growing  demand  in 
that  quarter  for  views  of  the  work  of  Christ  which  reach  beyond 
the  old  standards,  which  promise  a  profounder  peace  to  the  heart, 
and  which,  while  they  magnify  the  cross,  attach  a  more  valid  and 
suflScing  efiScacy  to  the  whole  mediatorial  humiliation  and  spiritual 
sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God.  How  this  demand  is  to  be  satisfied  is 
not,  perhaps,  altogether  clear.  That  it  is  to  be  by  going  to  the  New 
Testament  with  a  simple  and  a  childlike  confidence,  and  not  to 
ecclesiastical  creeds,  we  are  very  sure.  After  all,  it  is  in  our  purest  and 
highest  devotional  moods  that  the  language  of  the  cross  becomes 
most  natural  and  unquestionable  to  us  ;  and  that  which  we  stumble 
at  in  cool  debate,  we  take  up  with  eager  and  delighted  acceptance 
in  prayers  and  hymns.  Should  it  prove  that  a  ground  can  ulti- 
mately be  found  where  such  minds  as  we  have  referred  to,  and  minds 
of  Orthodox  training,  can  stand  together,  we  shall  not  mourn  nor  be 
frightened,  but  rejoice  and  take  courage,  thanking  God.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  no  portion  of  the  Unitarian  denomination  wnll  draw  it- 
self up  into  an  attitude  of  impatience  or  protest  at  these  inquiries  ; 
partly  because  such  a  course  would  be  unworthy  of  the  antecedents 
and  pretensions  of  a  liberal  body,  and  partly  because  it  would  be 
feeble  and  ineffectual  in  its  results.     We  live  too  late  to  be  told 


314:  FREDEEICK    D.    HUNTINGTON. 

ao-ain  tlie  imbecile  lie  that  truth  can  be-  protected  by  restricting 
earnest  and  rigbt-liearted  thought  on  any  side ;  and  the  liberality 
which  is  liberal  only  to  the  side  of  laxity,  but  bigoted  towards  the 
ancient  forms  of  faith,  is  a  kind  we  do  not  covet.  K  there  are  any 
of  our  readers  who  are  displeased  the  moment  the  infoUibility  of 
Channino^,  or  of  a  sect,  is  called  in  question,  we  must  wish  them  well, 
and  pass  on.  "Whenever  the  instructors  of  the  Unitarian  churches 
refuse  to  admit  that  there  can  be  any  other  view  of  the  reconcilia- 
tion than  that  which  makes  it  consist  in  the  exemplary  and  inci- 
dental value  of  a  consistent  termination  of  a  blameless  and  miracu- 
lous career  in  a  human  Christ,  many  of  those  they  have  been  called 
to  teach  will  turn  elsewhere  for  spiritual  nourishment,  as  some  are 
already  doing.  Indeed,  in  proportion  as  the  heart  is  impressed  more 
and  more  deeply  with  the  two  great  facts  which  create  the  necessity 
of  mediation  and  redemption, — viz.,  the  immaculate  holiness  and 
sovereignty  of  God,  or  the  irreconcilable  hostility  of  the  divine 
nature  to  sin,  and  the  intense  hatefulness  and  hideousness  and  hei- 
nousness  of  human  disobedience  and  self-will, — ^just  in  that  proportion 
will  the  above-mentioned  doctrine  of  reconciliation  prove  as  incom- 
petent as  it  is  unevangelical. 

"  But  it  has  been  no  part  of  our  purpose  in  this  paper  to  criticise 
the  Unitarian  position.  We  began  merely  with  the  intention  to  open 
the  way  for  a  reply  to  the  '  Letter,'  by  showing  how  the  subject  lies 
before  some  minds ;  but  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  hath  spoken  much.  To  those  who  have  intimated  that  the 
Unitarians  will  be  alienated  by  strictures  on  their  faults,  or  driven 
into  depriving  themselves  of  a  real  good  because  one  ventures  to 
question  their  perfection,  we  have  almost  nothing  to  say.  Such 
poor  defenders  slander  the  cause  they  undertake  to  espouse,  more 
bitterly  than  all  its  enemies.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  some  hearers 
who  reward  a  prophet  according  to  the  smooth  things  he  prophesies, 
ordain  ministers  expecting  them  to  be  flatterers  of  their  prejudices, 
and  applaud  the  speech  that  roundly  assails  all  persons  out  of  doors 
who  cannot  hear,  either  for  profit  or  anger.  But  there  are  more 
valiant  souls  abroad,  caring  more  to  be  right  than  to  be  approved. 
Names  and  articles  are  losing  their  former  sway.     The  Church  is 


CONCLUSION. 


315 


to  be  fashioned  anew  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Holy  One.  To  make  our 
pages  humbly  subservient  to  the  will  of  that  Spirit  is  our  highest  aim 
foAhem ;  and,  to  that  end,  we  propose  to  keep  them  independently 
open  for  reverential  and  earnest  discussions,  recognizing  the  exclusive 
claims  of  no  sect,  and  standing  under  obhgations  for  no  patronage." 

The  professorship  occupied  by  Mr.  Huntington  has  been  recently 
established  through  an  endowment  from  a  wealthy  and  benevolent 
lady  of  Salem.  He  was  elected  to  the  place  by  the  almost  unani- 
mous vote  of  a  large  Board  of  Overseers,  composed  of  both  Ortho- 
dox and  Unitarian  Congregationahsts.  And  it  is  worthy  of  re- 
mark, as  evidencing  the  universal  esteem  in  which  he  is  held,  that 
the  number  of  his  invitations  to  preach  on  special  religious  occa- 
sions, such  as  ordinations  and  dedications,  as  well  as  to  speak  at  ht- 
erary  anniversaries,  is  far  greater  than  that  of  any  other  clergyman 
in  Massachusetts  of  his  ministerial  age. 

At  the  Commencement  of  1855,  Mr.  Huntington  received  the 
Doctorate  of  Divinity  from  his  Alma  Mater.  It  is  an  interesting 
fact  that  Amherst  College  should  simultaneously  furnish  a  leading 
Professor  to  Harvard  University,  and  Harvard  a  President*  to  Am- 
herst. It  is  fitting  that  one  who  goes  to  dwell  amidst,  and  in 
turn  to  mould  the  culture  of  Boston  and  Cambridge,  should  have 
breathed  the  invigorating  air  of  Western  Massachusetts,  and  have 
often  looked  up  fi'om  the  books  and  sports  of  youth  to  the  "moun- 
tains which  are  round  about  her."  It  is  well  that  the  teacher  of 
religious  truth,  who  seeks  to  unite  once  more  the  parted  bands  of  the 
New  England  Church,  should  know  the  views  and  prepossessions  of 
both  by  experience  and  by  intercourse.  It  is  well  that  he  be  endowed 
with  personal  force,  united  to  personal  attractiveness ;  with  hterary 
culture,  both  profound  and  generous ;  and  with  a  fitness  for  influ- 
encing ingenuous  and  ardent  minds,  which  is  singulariy  effective. 
The  Future  reveals  a  beautiful  vision  of  Christian  Union,  possibly  born 
within,  and  nurtured  by  the  very  Institution  which  maugurated  the 
separation.    Many  hearts  look  towards  it  with  prayer  and  faith. 

*  Eev.  W.  A.  Stearns,  D.  D. 


LEONARD  BACON, 

THE  NEW  ENGLAND  PEEACHER. 


"  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  kept  the  faith." 


Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  D.  D.,  was  bora  in  Detroit,  Michigan,  on 
the  19th  of  February,  1802.  His  father  was,  for  several  years,  a 
missionary  to  the  Indians,  sent  by  the  missionary  society  of  Connec- 
ticut ;  and  was  afterwards  a  missionary  to  the  new  settlements.  He 
died  in  the  year  1817,  leaving  three  sons  and  four  daughters.  The 
first  ten  years  of  Dr.  Bacon's  life  were  passed  for  the  most  part  in  the 
towns  of  Hudson  and  Tallraadge,  Ohio.  At  the  age  of  t^n,  he  was 
sent  to  Hartford,  to  an  excellent  school,  where  he  was  fitted  for  col- 
lege, at  the  same  time  living  in  the  family  of  an  uncle.  In  the  fall 
of  1817  he  entered  the  Sophomore  class  of  Yale  College,  when  he 
was  in  his  sixteenth  year.  His  class  was  an  excellent  one,  number 
ing  in  its  ranks  many  who  have  since  become  distinguished,  among 
whom  we  would  mention  the  names  of  President  Woolsey,  of  Yale 
College ;  Professor  Twining,  the  distinguished  civil  engineer ;  Pro- 
fessor Stoddard ;  Hon.  J.  H.  Brockway,  of  Connecticut ;  Hon.  Gar- 
nett  Duncan,  of  Kentucky;  and  Walter  Edwards,  Esq.,  of  New 
York.  Bacon  was  the  youngest  member  of  the  class,  with  one  ex- 
ception. He  had  entered  the  Sophomore  year  in  advance  of  his  age 
and  preparation,  from  the  necessity  to  complete  his  preparatory 
studies  as  soon  as  possible.  But,  in  spite  of  his  youth  and  disad- 
vantages, he  was  an  excellent  scholar,  and  ranked  high,  tliough 
not  among  the  highest.  Yet  he  did  not  devote  his  time  exclusively 
to  text-books.     He  mingled  in  debate  considerably,  took  an  active 


EDUCATION   SOCIETIES.  317 

interest  in  the  literary  societies,  and  was  universally  considered  one 
of  the  best  writers  in  his  class. 

Thus  we  see  that  Leonard  Bacon  was  the  orphan  son  of  a  poor 
missionary,  who,  at  death,  left  him  for  a  legacy  his  good  name,  and 
the  sympathies  of  a  Christian  community.  He  had  few  of  this 
world's  goods.  Indeed  he  had  none  at  all.  Yet  he  was  receiving 
the  best  Hterary  and  classical  education  that  could  be  obtained  in 
America.  He  had  the  advantages  of  libraries,  of  lectures,  of  phil- 
osophical apparatus,  of  social  mental  stimulus.  If  he  had  been  the 
son  of  Baron  Rothschild,  he  would  hardly  have  had  greater  advan- 
tages. Indeed  they  would  have  been  diminished ;  for  the  excite- 
ment of  necessity,  the  vigor  of  self-reliance,  the  independence  of 
self-making,  the  security  from  the  multiplied  temptations  of  wealth, 
would  have  been  taken  away.  He  united  the  facilities  of  affluence 
with  the  propulsion  of  poverty.  The  way  was  clear  before  him,  the 
energy  strong  within  him.  He  could  not  but  go  ahead.  When 
we  know  of  such  cases,  and  they  are  very  many  in  this  land,  the 
heart  swells  with  gratitude  and  admiration  towards  those  noble  ben- 
efactors of  our  race,  who  have  manifested  their  Judgment,  as  well 
as  their  generosity,  by  the  endowment  of  our  literary  institutions. 
It  is  a  refreshing  circumstance  in  this  world  of  inequalities,  of 
hoarded  wealth  and  pinching  poverty,  of  wasteful  abundance  and 
desperate  economy,  that  there  is  one  arena  where  the  rich  man's 
first-born  and  the  poor  man's  orphan  may  start  from  the  same 
point,  press  on  over  the  same  course,  and,  with  equal  chance,  strug- 
gle for  the  same  prize.  It  is  a  proverb  that  republics  are  ungrateful. 
However  true  this  may  be,  it  should  not  be  applied  to  those  repub- 
lics which  come  into  being  with  the  formation  of  every  congrega- 
tional church.  There  is  gratitude  among  them,  though  its  quantity 
may  be  in  some  instances  minute.  There  is  gratitude  existing  in  a 
church  of  Christ,  whatever  name  that  church  may  bear.  The  or- 
phan of  the  missionaiy,  who  had  spent  his  days  in  the  service  of 
the  Church,  was  not  left  to  struggle  up  unaided  and  destitute.  He 
received  of  the  abundance  with  which  Heaven  has  blessed  American 
Christians ;  and  though  the  gift  was  small — so  small  that  no  one 
ever  imagined  that  it  would  beget  extravagance — yet  it  was  some- 


318  LEONARD   BACON. 

thino".  It  saved  its  recipient  from  actual  want.  Witli  close  econ- 
omy, increased  by  some  earnings  of  his  own,  it  enabled  liim  to 
complete  his  preparatory  studies.  However  some  may  object  to 
"  Education  Societies,"  yet  we-  think  no  one  can  mourn  that  the 
Church,  through  such  an  organization,  aided  the  son  of  one  of  her 
own  devoted  laborers.  It  was  not  a  gift  with  which  they  endowed 
him.  No ;  it  was  a  debt  they  owed  him.  And  when  such  di- 
vines as  Dr.  Bacon  are  the  fruits  of  this  form  of  benevolence,  who 
will  not  rejoice  that  a  slight  portion  of  the  wealth  of  Christendom 
goes  to  the  education  of  the  children  of  the  Church  ? 

After  his  graduation  at  Yale,  in  the  autumn  of  1820,  Mr.  Bacon 
went  to  Andover,  where  he  prosecuted  his  theological  studies  for 
four  years.  Within  a  few  weeks  after  he  left  Andover,  he  com- 
menced preaching,  by  invitation,  at  the  First  Congregational  Church 
of  New  Haven,  the  building  of  which  is  known  by  the  name  of 
"Centre  Church."  Over  this  church  he  was  ordained  pastor,  in 
March,  1825,  when  he  was  twenty-three  years  of  age.  His  two  im- 
mediate predecessors  were  Professor  Stuart,  of  Andover,  who  was 
dismissed,  at  his  own  request,  on  the  9th  of  January,  1810,  after 
ha\^ng  served  as  pastor  a  little  less  than  four  years ;  and  Dr.  Taylor, 
now  Professor  of  the  Theological  Seminary  at  New  Haven,  who  was 
dismissed  in  December,  1822,  after  a  ministry  of  eleven  and  a  half 
years,  that  he  might  accept  the  professorship.  The  first  meeting  for 
the  establishment  of  this  Church  was  held  on  the  14th  of  June, 
1639,  when  "  all  the  free  planters"  were  gathered  in  "Mr.  Newman's 
barn ;"  which  building,  thus  immortalized  in  history,  is  supposed  to 
have  stood  where  the  residence  of  Noah  Webster  now  stands. 

The  Church  was  gathered  and  organized  on  the  22d  of  the  fol- 
lowing August.  The  present  church  edifice  was  erected  in  1814- 
'15.  During  the  winter  of  1842,  it  was  enlarged  and  refitted,  and 
reopened  for  divine  service  on  the  2d  of  March,  1843,  on  which 
occasion  Dr.  Bacon  preached  a  sermon,  from  which  we  make  the 
following  extract: 

"  The  glory  of  this  temple  has  been  heretofore,  that  it  has  stood 
not  for  the  private  use  and  enjoyment  of  those  who  built  it,  or  who, 
by  succession  from  the  original  builders,  have  had,  and  ought  to 


DEDICATION    SERMON.  319 

have  tlie  control  of  it ;  but  rather  as  the  house  of  God,  to  which, 
when  the  deep-toned  bell  gives  out  its  signal,  all  alike,  the  rich  and 
the  poor,  the  high  and  the  low,  the  citizen  and  the  stranger,  are  in- 
vited to  come  and  worship  the  Maker  and  Redeemer  of  all.  Its 
glory  has  been  that  here,  in  times  of  religious  awakening  through 
the  community,  assembled  thousands,  crowding  every  aisle  and 
corner,  have  listened  in  deepest  silence  to  the  preaching  of  the  word  ; 
that  here  in  such  assemblies,  as  well  as  in  our  ordinary  Sabbath  con- 
gregations, the  thoughtless  have  been  awakened,  the  awakened 
have  been  led  to  the  Saviour  of  the  lost,  and  angels  invisible,  be- 
fore the  invisible  God,  have  rejoiced  over  the  repentance  of  sin- 
ners. Its  glory  has  been,  that  from  this  spot  has  gone  forth  over 
the  community,  to  aid  in  the  formation  and  control  of  public  opin- 
ion, a  high,  stern,  moral  influence,  which  the  workers  of  iniquity 
have  feared  and  hated.  Its  glory  has  been,  that  here  so  many 
great  movements  for  the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  have 
found  a  hearing,  and  have  received  an  additional  impulse ;  that 
here  many  a  missionary  going  forth  to  his  field  of  peril,  has  been 
set  apart  to  his  apostleship ;  and  that  here  the  missionary,  brought 
back,  like  Paul,  to 'the  place  from  which  he  had  been  commended 
to  the  grace  of  God,  has  stood  up  like  Paul  to  rehearse,  in  our  re- 
joicing ears,  what  God  has  wrought  by  him  among  the  Gentiles. 
That  lofty  pulpit,  now  displaced,  in  which  so  many  a  servant  of 
Christ  has  been  consecrated  to  this  work,  for  this  or  for  some  for- 
eign land,  and  in  which  so  many  an  eloquent  and  earnest  voice  has 
spoken  for  God,  for  the  soul,  and  for  the  cause  of  the  world's  re- 
demption, might  well  be  regretted,  if  it  had  not  been  itself  sent  forth 
upon  a  mission.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  globe,  in  a  land  which 
has  been  made  a  Christian  land  by  the  labors  of  missionaries,  some 
of  the  earliest  of  whom  were  ordained  in  that  pulpit,  there  is  now 
nearly  completed  a  Christian  temple,  of  stone,  far  more  spacious 
than  this,  reared  by  the  contributions  and  by  the  hands  of  converted 
savages ;  and  in  that  temple  the  Gospel  is  to  be  preached  from  our 
old  pulpit,  not  indeed  in  our  energetic  English  tongue,  but  in 
another  language,  soft  and  melodious  as  angel  voices,  a  language  in 
which  tens  of  thousands  have  already  found 


320  LEONARD    BACON. 

'  How  sweet  the  name  of  Jesus  sounds 
In  a  believer's  ear.' 

That  pulpit,  gone  upon  its  mission,  is  a  pledge — all  the  histoncal  as- 
sociations which,  in  our  judgment  and  feelings,  help  to  consecrate 
this  edifice,  are  a  pledge  that  the  glory  has  not  departed  in  the  changes 
which  we  have  been  making ;  that  this  house  shall  still  be  known 
and  honored  as  the  temple  of  our  redeeming  God;  *a  house  of 
prayer  for  all  nations ;' — and  shall  be  a  centre  of  counsel,  of  influ- 
ence, and  of  enterprise,  for  the  welfare  of  all  around  us,  and  for  the 
salvation  of  the  world." 

The  Centre  Church  is  happily  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  beau- 
tiful square  of  New  Haven.  It  is  a  building  of  simple  architecture, 
and  of  harmonious  proportions,  crowned  by  a  graceful  spire  that 
points  aspiringly  towards  heaven.  It  is  flanked  by  churches ;  and  as 
one  sees  these  three  edifices,  standing  there  so  closely  together,  yet 
distinct — on  the  same  level,  and  in  the  same  line — each  with  its 
own  spire  pointing  to  the  same  heaven — they  seem  a  fit  expression 
of  the  time  unity  of  Christian  sects — all  standing  on  the  same  level, 
all  marching  in  the  same  line,  towards  the  same  heaven — distinct, 
yet  united ;  individual  in  action,  yet  harmonious  in  purpose ;  sepa- 
rated in  form,  but  one  in  spirit. 

Dr.  Bacon's  church  numbers  between  five  hundred  and  six  hun- 
dred members.  Since  its  estabhshment,  six  other  Congregational 
churches  have  been  founded,  and  four  of  these  since  Dr.  Bacon's 
settlement.  There  has  ever  been  a  most  harmonious  and  happy 
state  of  feeling  among  his  people.  The  warmth  of  charity  has 
melted  down  whatever  dioagreements  have  arisen,  and  the  breath  of 
love  has  gently  wafted  away  the  gathering  clouds  of  discontent.  A 
spirit  of  forbearance  is  manifested  by  the  majorities ;  a  readiness  to 
jield,  by  minorities.  All  are  united  in  their  pastor  ;  they  love  him, 
they  admire  him,  and  the  best  part  of  the  w^orld  approves  them, 
for  being  proud  of  their  minister. 

Becoming  pastor  of  the  church,  as  he  did,  at  the  early  age  of 
twenty-three,  it  is  not  strange  that  there  were  doubts  whether  he 
would  sustain  himself.  But  these  doubts  vanished  years  ago,  and 
now  one  might  as  well  doubt  whether  the  church  edifice  could  sus- 


mSTuEICAL   DISCOURSES.  321 

tain  its  spire.  He  is  firmly  establisEed  in  the  confidence  and  afiec- 
tions  of  his  people.  It  is  a  cheering  sight  to  see  that  pastor,  as- 
sisted by  his  five  deacons,  breaking  the  bread  of  life  to  the  assem- 
bled hundreds  of  his  church.  It  makes  one  feel  more  confidence  in 
the  redemption  of  the  world,  a  firmer  faith  that  the  "good  time  com- 
ing" will  be  coming  soon. 

The  following  paragraph,  taken  from  Dr.  Bacon's  "Historical 
Discourses,"  published  in  1839,  in  which  he  presents  the  history  of 
his  church,  affords  an  appropriate  conclusion  to  this  brief  sketch  of 
his  life.  He  thus  notices  the  term  of  his  own  ministry  with  un- 
feigned modesty  and  quiet  bre\dty  : 

"  The  present  pastor  first  stood  in  this  pulpit  on  the  first  Sabbath 
in  October,  1824,  having  been  ordained  the  week  before  to  the  work 
of  an  evangelist.  He  was  installed  on  the  9th  of  March,  1825,  and 
is  now  in  the  fourteenth  year  of  his  oflScial  relation  to  this  church. 
The  years  1828  and  1831  w^ere  years  in  which  God  was  pleased  to 
crown  a  most  imperfect  ministry  with  blessed  success.  The  years 
1832,  1835,  and  1837,  though  less  distinguished  than  the  two  first 
mentioned,  are  also  to  be  remembered  with  gratitude. 

"  Having  made  this  acknowledgment  of  the  goodness  of  God,  1 
will  not  attempt  at  this  time  to  review  my  own  ministry  any  further 
than  to  say,  that  in  the  constant  kindness  of  a  most  affectionate 
people,  in  the  wisdom  and  frankness  with  which  those  gifted  with 
wisdom  have  ever  been  ready  to  counsel  me,  in  the  forbearance 
with  which  my  imperfections  and  errors  have  been  treated,  and  in 
the  stimulus  which  the  presence  of  an  intelligent  community,  ac- 
customed to  judge  by  the  highest  standards,  has  afforded,  I  have 
had  great  occasion  for  gratitude  to  the  Providence  that  has  cast  my 
lot  here,  and  for  humiliation,  that  amid  such  advantages,  my  corre- 
spondent profiting  has  not  been  more  manifest  to  all  men." 

Dr.  Bacon  is  esteemed  one  of  the  champions  of  Congregational- 
ism, and  a  thorough  student  of  its  theory.  His  mind  was  first 
awakened  to  see  and  understand  the  distinctive  genius  of  the  Con- 
gffegational  system,  and  what  he  regards  as  its  advantages  over  the 
classical  and  diocesan  systems  of  church  government,  by  an  elabo- 
rate and  eloquent  review  of  "  Hawes's  Tribute  to  the  Memory  of  the 

21 


LEONARD   BACOX. 

Pilgrims,"  from  the  pen  of  the  Rev.  (now  Dr.)  Joshua  Leavitt,  pub- 
lished in  the  Christian  Spectator,  1831.  This  article  produced  a 
-wide  and  deep  impression.  Up  to  that  date,  it  had  been  common  in 
New  England  to  argue  for  Congregationalism  as  against  Episcopacy, 
but  nobody,  we  believe,  had  found  occasion  to  compare  it  distinctly 
with  Presbyterianism.  Yet  we  do  not  esteem  Dr.  Bacon  as  striking- 
ly sectarian.  Indeed,  on  his  return  from  the  East  in  1851,  he  ob- 
served with  anxiety  a  tendency  to  sectarian  Congregationalism 
growing  up  at  the  Northwest,  and  through  the  columns  of  "  The 
Independent"  he  set  himself  to  modify  and  counteract  it.  In  May, 
1852,  in  the  annual  sermon  before  the  American  Home  Missionary 
Society,  entitled  "  The  American  Church,"  he  states  the  underlying 
principle  of  Congregationalism  in  a  manner  free  from  the  rancor  of 
sectarianism.  In  this  discourse,  he  claims  that  the  strength  of  or- 
ganic Christianity  is  in  the  Parochial  Church,  and  not  in  the  Synod 
or  Association ;  and  that,  under  our  American  poHtical  institutions, 
and  under  the  force  of  our  American  histoiy,  there  is  a  tendency  to 
the  development  of  this  principle  in  every  form  of  ecclesiastical  gov- 
ernment. In  May,  1854,  he  gave  a  discourse  at  the  first  anniversary 
of  the  Congregational  Union,  and  repeated  it  as  a  "  Dudleian  Lecture" 
at  Harvard  College. 

It  is  the  literary  publications  of  Dr.  Bacon  which  have  for  the 
most  part  estabhshed  his  wide  reputation  and  effective  influence. 
Besides  all  the  sermons  which  he  has  been  preaching  for  the  last 
thirty-one  years,  and  all  the  essays,  discourses,  and  books  which 
have  appeared  over  his  own  name,  he  has  published  anonymous  and 
fugitive  articles  enough  to  make,  if  collected,  quite  a  number  of  vol- 
umes. There  are  few  subjects  connected  with  the  advance  of  man- 
kind in  knowledge  or  in  righteousness,  about  which  he  has  not 
written.  The  topics  he  has  discussed  are  altogether  too  multifa- 
rious to  be  enumerated.  For  many  years  he  has  been  doing  edito- 
rial duty  more  or  less.  He  was  connected  with  "  The  Christian 
Spectator,"  commenced  in  1829,  and  published  ten  years  as  a  month- 
ly, then  ten  years  as  a  quarterly,  when  it  was  merged  in  "  The 
Biblical  Repository."  He  is  now  chairman  of  the  association  which 
conducts  "  The  New  Engiander,"  and  senior  editor  of  "  The  Inde- 


REVIEW   ARTICLES.  323 

pendent."  With  his  many  articles  published  in  the  "  Spectator,"  we 
are  not  familiar.  A  series  of  essays  on  slavery,  which  first  appeared 
in  that  periodical,  have  been  embalmed  in  a  book,  which  any  one 
can  procure  who  may  wish  to  see  this  subject  ably  handled  and 
thoroughly  discussed,  or  may  be  anxious  to  get  an  insight  into  Dr. 
Bacon's  views.  His  articles,  published  in  "  The  New  Englander," 
since  its  commencement  in  1843,  are  esteemed  the  ablest  produc- 
tions of  his  pen  ;  but  as  many  of  them  appeared  anonymously,  and 
as  their  authorship  is  known  to  us,  not  from  the  author  himself,  and 
no  permission  to  reveal  it  has  been  asked,  we  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to 
present  a  list  of  them.  On  the  2 2d  of  December,  1838,  he  delivered 
the  annual  addi'ess  before  "  The  New  England  Society  of  the  City  of 
New  York,"  which  was  published  at  the  request  of  the  Society.  It 
presents  a  graphic  history  of  the  establishment  of  the  Puritans  in 
this  country,  and  a  candid,  eloquent  elucidation  of  their  character. 

It  is  a  noteworthy  manifestation  of  Dr.  Bacon's  character, 
which  the  large  number  of  his  addresses  illustrate,  that  he  never 
declines  any  demand  upon  him  by  the  public,  from  a  regard  to  his 
personal  reputation.  He  does  not  reflect  whether  he  will  have  op- 
portunity to  do  himself  justice,  but  whether  he  can  do  any  service  to 
the  cause  of  education  or  of  truth.  Hence  he  is  called  upon,  in 
emergencies,  when  most  men  invariably  decline.  He  is  always  pre- 
pared, always  has  some  thoughts  on  hand,  either  on  paper  or  in  his 
head,  which  he  can  present  at  the  briefest  warning,  for  the  instruc- 
tion and  enjoyment  of  an  audience.  He  has  a  very  happy  way  of 
introducing  a  subject  or  a  thought,  and  makes  many  an  agreeable 
turn  to  his  remarks.  He  has  delicacy  and  propriety  of  taste,  and 
adapts  his  words  to  the  occasion  with  great  appropriateness. 

Dr.  Bacon  is  remarkable  for  accuracy  and  extent  of  observation, 
and  for  power  of  generalization.  He  not  only  takes  note  of  particu- 
lars, but  from  these  he  readily  deduces  general  conclusions.  He 
evinces  these  traits  in  his  thorough  and  philosophical  criticisms  on 
poUtical  subjects,  on  church  polities,  and  on  matters  of  history.  His 
numerous  essays  in  these  three  departments  are  highly  valued  for 
their  comprehensiveness  of  view,  originality  of  thought,  and  cogency 
of  argument.     Several  political  articles  of  his  have  been  published 


324:  LEONARD    BACOX. 

in  "  The  New  Englander,"  which  are  worthy  of  an  experienced  states- 
man, whether  we  regard  the  profoundness  of  the  thought  or  the 
accuracy  of  the  details.  For  history  he  has  special  fondness.  He 
has  paid  much  attention  to  the  ecclesiastical  and  civil  history  of  his 
adopted  State.  In  1838,  he  dehvered  a  series  of  thirteen  discourses, 
on  successive  Sabbath  evenings,  from  one  of  which  we  have  already 
made  an  extract.  They  comprise  a  history  of  New  Haven,  from  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  government,  two  hundred  years  before,  up  to  that 
time.  These  discourses  were  afterwards  published,  and  make  a 
large  octavo  volume  of  four  hundred  pages.  They  contain  matter 
of  great  interest,  not  only  historical,  but  biographical,  and  bear  the 
evidence  of  laborious  investigation.  We  can  only  allude  to  the 
book  which  he  published  for  young  Christians,  and  to  the  two  pam- 
phlets he  wrote  with  special  reference  to  the  good  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Churches  of  Connecticut ;  the  first  in  the  form  of  letters  to  the 
Kev.  G.  A.  Calhoun,  and  the  second  being  an  appeal  for  union. 

Dr.  Bacon  has  a  remarkable  power  of  expression.  His  mind 
works  with  such  ease  and  directness,  that  he  is  never  at  a  loss  for 
words  with  which  to  clothe  his  thoughts,  clearly,  concisely,  and  for- 
cibly. It  is  this  which  has  enabled  him  to  accomplish  such  a  great 
amount  of  literary  labor.  This  power  is  also  exemplified  in  his  ex- 
tempore speaking.  He  is  distinguished  from  many  platform  orators 
in  giving  important  thought,  rather  than  in  making  appeals  to  the 
emotions  or  to  the  fancy.  He  feeds  the  mind  more  than  he  fires  the 
feelings.  There  is  something  in  all  he  says — something  to  be  car- 
ried home  by  the  hearer  and  thought  over.  His  speeches  all  have 
"  body"  to  them. 

Clearness  is  the  characteristic  of  his  style,  as  it  is  of  his  thought. 
One  is  never  at  a  loss  to  know  what  he  means.  He  is  never  hon- 
estly misunderstood.  His  style  has  some  embellishment,  but  is 
rather  lucid  than  ornate,  rather  stately  than  beautiful.  He  has  con- 
siderable poetic  talent,  which  is  evinced  in  the  hymns  of  his  produc- 
tion published  in  the  collection  used  by  the  Congregational  Churches 
of  Connecticut.  His  imagination  is  well  developed,  though  under 
perfect  control.  His  power  of  sarcasm  is  equalled  by  few.  He  is 
continually  restraining  its  exercise.     Of  late  years  he  has  indulged 


SINCERITY.  325 

less  in  it,  and  his  literary  productions  have  borne  a  more  winning 
and  gentle  character.  He  has  at  times  what  may  be  termed  an  ac- 
cumulative style.  He  goes  on  from  one  point  to  another,  elabora- 
ting the  thought  more  and  more  perfectly,  rising  higher  and  higher 
in  eloquence  of  expression,  till  one  is  ready  to  exclaim,  as  a  minister 
in  his  audience  was  once  heard  to  do,  "  See !  see,  how  he  towers !" 
An  eloquent  sermon  published  in  "The  National  Preacher,"  for  1842, 
entitled  "  The  Day  Approaching,"  illustrates  this  quality. 

Dr.  Bacon  has  stood  for  a  long  time  before  the  public  in  bold 
relief.  He  has  consequently  been  observed  from  various  points  and 
through  a  variety  of  media.  Opinions  have  been  formed  from  a 
single  and  partial  exhibition  of  his  inner  life,  and  however  distinct 
and  prominent  this  exhibition  may  have  been — for  it  could  hardly 
be  otherwise  and  belong  to  Dr.  Bacon — yet  such  opinions  cannot 
fail  to  be  erroneous,  whether  formed  of  him  or  of  any  man.  As 
judgments  of  one  trait  or  of  one  manifestation,  they  may  or  may 
not  be  correct ;  but  they  should  never  be  adopted  as  a  correct  view 
of  his  character  as  a  whole.  Let  him  be  seen  in  other  circmn- 
stances,  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  these  opinions  would  be  ex- 
changed for  those  wholly  different.  Yet  Dr.  Bacon  is  not  an  incon- 
sistent man,  nor  an  unstable  man,  nor  a  dissembler.  He  is  pre- 
eminently the  very  opposite  of  these.  Sincerity  is  the  foundation 
of  his  character.  He  is  a  man  thoroughly  in  earnest.  He  has  the 
energy,  the  decision,  and  the  zeal,  w^hich  spring  from  heartfelt  con- 
victions. Whatsoever  he  does,  is  done  seriously,  unwaveringly,  and 
unflinchingly.  This  pervading  element  must  be  kept  in  mind.  It 
must  be  the  premise  of  every  argument  concerning  him,  the  funda- 
mental element  of  every  calculation ;  else  the  conclusions  will  be 
utterly  wrong,  as  if  in  taking  observations  on  the  planets  the  sun 
be  not  reckoned  as  the  centre  of  the  system.  Sincerity  is  the  centre 
of  his  spiritual  system.  It  imparts  life,  and  vigor,  and  warmth,  and 
impulse  to  all  the  parts,  and  controls  the  whole.  Keeping  this  fact 
in  view,  any  one  of  tolerable  candor  and  accuracy,  in  obser\nng  the 
public  or  private  acts  of  Dr.  Bacon,  will  not  be  likely  to  err  in  the 
theory  deduced,  the  correctness  of  which  will  be  shown  by  the  con 
sistency  and  oneness  it  imparts. 


326  LEONAPwD   BACON. 

You  see  Dr.  Bacon  in  a  deliberative  assembly  of  ministers.  A 
proposition  is  presented  for  discussion.  The  principle  involved  is 
fundamental,  or  the  precedent  momentous.  He  rises  to  speak.  For 
some  minutes  he  proceeds  calmly  and  considerately.  But  as  he 
warms  with  the  importance  of  the  subject  and  the  interest  of  the 
occasion,  his  brow  contracts,  the  aspect  of  his  face  is  stern  and  dark, 
his  right  arm  brings  down  the  oft-repeated  and  decisive  gesture,  the 
arguments  roll  out  in  hot  succession  and  with  overpowering  weight, 
and  he  manifests  no  pity  for  the  opposite  side,  however  much  pity 
he  may  feel,  but  goes  on,  pounding  with  his  logic  and  piercing  with 
his  sarcasm,  till  eveiy  particle  of  life  is  annihilated  in  the  principle 
he  contests.  The  deed  is  done,  and  we  ask,  What  is  the  impres- 
sion left  in  regard  to  Dr.  Bacon's  character  ?  That  he  is  nothing 
more  than  an  invincible  disputant  and  a  dogmatic  wrangler  ?  Not 
so.  He  is  a  sincere,  bold,  unyielding,  indomitable  defender  of  what 
he  believes  in  his  soul  to  be  the  truth.  He  debated,  because  he  was 
conscious  of  being  familiar  with  the  subject,  and  he  debated  on  that 
side,  because  it  was  to  him  the  side  of  right. 

You  read  a  certain  one  of  Dr.  Bacon's  writings.  We  have  a  par- 
ticular one  in  mind.  It  is  not  very  profound  or  thorough.  It  is 
little  better  than  witty  and  sarcastic.  He  is  dealing  with  the  polity 
of  a  church,  for  which  he  has  slight  respect.  He  gives  some  broad 
thrusts  and  makes  some  pointed  hits.  You  say  he  is  a  mere  par- 
tisan, who  is  more  witty  than  wise,  and  more  sarcastic  than  sound. 
Not  so :  he  is  not  only  one  of  these,  but — he  is  all  these.  He  can 
be  witty  and  sarcastic.  In  the  present  instance  he  deems  it  right 
and  best  that  he  should  be.  Thinking  it  the  true  way,  he  follows 
in  that  way ;  and  he  is  sarcastic,  without  trying  to  be  so  or  trying 
to  seem  so.  He  is  all  the  while  sincere.  But  in  reading  a  dozen 
other  articles,  you  will  pronounce  him  to  be  truly  profound,  fair- 
minded,  charitable,  generous.  So  he  is.  He  can  see  on  all  sides  of 
a  subject.  He  can  take  the  stand-point  of  an  opponent,  which  is 
difficult  for  many.  He  can  apprehend  a  principle  through  all  its 
details,  however  numerous,  and  in  all  its  relations,  however  complex. 

Again,  you  hear  of  him  as  present  at  every  association  and  at 
every  anniversary.     You  see  his  debate  reported  at  the  one,  and  his 


MANNER.  327 

speecli  at  the  other.  You  read  his  motions  and  resolutions.  You 
say  he  is  seeking  for  power — that  he  is  ambitious  of  management 
and  of  distinction.  Here,  again,  first  impressions  have  misled.  He 
is  not  thinking  of  self;  he  is  only  ambitious  to  promote  the  welfare 
of  the  Church  and  the  improvement  of  the  world.  He  speaks  be- 
cause he  has  something  to  say,  and  because  his  brethren  insist  upon 
his  saying  it.  He  does  not  impose  himself  upon  a  reluctant  audi- 
ence.    He  is  more  often  forced  to  speak  when  reluctant  himself. 

Again,  you  attend  his  church.  He  has  few  notes  before  him,  or 
perhaps  a  sermon  which  reveals  its  antiquity  by  the  hue  of  the 
paper.  He  preaches  quite  well,  but  not  very  eloquently ;  indeed 
you  suspect  he  is  a  little  dull.  You  anticipated  something  remark- 
able, and  you  are  disappointed.  You  are  inclined  to  think  that  he 
has  shirked  severity  of  thought.  Yet  precisely  the  opposite  is  the 
fact.  He  has  unexpectedly  been  called  upon  for  a  Commencement 
address,  or  for  an  article  for  "  The  New  Englander,"  or  for  an  ex- 
tra editorial  for  "  The  Independent,"  or  for  a  defence  of  New  Haven 
theology — and  so  he  has  been  hard  at  work  in  another  field  of  la- 
bor ;  and,  worn  out  with  the  week's  toil,  has  fitted  up  a  discourse 
for  the  pulpit  late  on  Saturday  night. 

Again,  you  call  on  Dr.  Bacon.  He  comes  out  of  his  study  to 
see  you  promptly — for  he  answers  to  every  call — but  he  has  the 
same  stern  aspect  and  the  same  overhanging  brow.  He  meets  you 
politely,  but  not  rapturously.  You  pronounce  him  cold-hearted  or 
austere,  while  in  truth  he  is  at  the  very  antipodes  of  coldness  or 
austerity.  He  was  in  thought  when  you  came  in,  the  trace  is  on 
his  brow,  and  he  is  too  sincere  to  be  "  delighted"  at  the  interruption. 
See  him  with  his  intimate  friends — mark  the  cordiality,  the  fond- 
ness, the  confiding  revelation  of  his  thoughts  and  emotions  and  pur- 
poses ;  see  him  in  the  social  circle  of  his  brethren — ^join  with  them 
in  the  unwearied  listening  to  his  original  thoughts,  his  flashes  of 
wit,  his  sparkling  anecdotes ;  see  him  in  the  family  circle,  mani- 
festing the  warm  love,  the  aff"ectionate  interest,  the  kindly  sym- 
pathy for  each  and  all — and  you  will  wonder  that  you  ever  es- 
teemed him  cold  at  heart. 

Dr.  Bacon  evinces  his  sincerity  in  the  character  of  his  preaching* 


328  LEOXAKD   BACOX. 

It  is  plain,  practical,  pointed.  It  is  not  brilliant,  though  it  is  im- 
pressive. It  is  sound  rather  than  striking,  earnest  rather  than  elo- 
quent. From  the  beginning  of  his  ministry  it  has  been  a  principle 
with  him  to  preach  habitually  on  the  familiar  topics,  the  loci  com- 
munes, of  Christian  truth  ;  to  be  purposely  commonplace,  not  only 
in  the  subject  of  sermons,  but  also  in  the  use  of  that  class  of  dic- 
tion and  statement  which  is  familiar  to  all  religiously  educated 
people.  "We  refer  now  to  his  usual  preaching.  Some  of  his  ser- 
mons are  of  kindling  eloquence,  and  of  marked  originality.  And 
the  congregation  which  is  favored  with  the  ministrations  of  such  a 
man,  may  well  afford  to  dispense  with  the  benefit  of  uninterrupted 
oratory,  in  exchange  for  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  their  pas- 
tor is  working  for  the  world  when  he  is  not  working  for  his  own 
people,  and  that  he  is  establishing  an  influence  abroad,  which  may 
also  serve  to  strengthen  his  influence  at  home. 

He  manifests  his  sincerity  in  his  social  deportment.  lie  never 
flatters,  or  patronizes,  or  condescends,  as  some  great  men  and  some 
great  ministers  do.  He  meets  one  on  an  equality,  if  he  meet  him 
at  all.  He  expects  the  conversation  to  be  reciprocal.  He  does  not 
demand  that  you  do  all  the  hearing,  and  he  do  all  the  talking, 
though  that  is  the  arrangement  most  prefer  when  with  him.  He 
so  often  leads  in  conversation,  not  because  he  has  taken  the  lead, 
but  because  others  fall  behind,  and  leave  him  in  the  van — from 
which  stand  he  has  too  much  courage  to  shrink,  and  too  much 
self-knowledge  to  retreat.  In  manner  he  is  polite,  unaffected,  con- 
siderate. He  meets  as  an  equal  every  honorable  member  of  the 
"  great  brotherhood  of  man." 

Dr.  Bacon  loves  freedom,  both  in  Church  and  in  State,  and  he 
equally  hates  oppression.  His  sympathies  are  immediately  aroused, 
and  his  aid  enlisted  by  the  least  sign  of  tyranny.  He  would  never 
vote  for  the  silencing  of  a  godly,  eloquent,  truth-seeking  brother, 
who  had  chanced,  in  his  investigations,  to  arrive  at  a  different  the- 
ological conclusion  from  the  majority  of  his  brethren.  He  would 
do  every  thing  to  promote  free  discussion.  He  is  fond  of  it  him- 
self, and  he  excels  in  it.  Ilis  power  has  led  him  into  much  writing 
.and  speaking  of  this  character.     If  an  outpost  of  theology  is  to  be 


TYPE   OF   NEW    ENGLAND.  329 

defended,  or  a  citadel  of  error  stormed,  the  brethren  say,  Dr.  Bacon 
is  the  man  to  do  it,  and  so  Dr.  Bacon  does  it.  This  love  of  freedom 
moves  his  spirit  strongly  against  southern  slavery.  Yet  he  is  not 
an  ultraist,  as  some  have  esteemed  him.  On  the  contrary,  he  has 
bravely  breasted  fanaticism.  He  was  one  of  the  earliest  and  ablest 
advocates  of  the  Colonization  Society.  He  is  thoroughly  interested 
in  the  great  benevolent  societies  of  the  day,  and  their  active  sup- 
porter. It  is  worthy  of  note,  that  his  congregation  contribute  be- 
tween five  and  six  thousand  dollars  each  year  for  these  efficient  al- 
moners of  Christianity. 

Dr.  Bacon  was  married,  in  1825,  to  Lucy,  the  daughter  of  Caleb 
Johnson,  Esquire,  of  Johnstown,  New  York,  who  died  in  1844, 
leaving  eight  children  (one  having  died  in  infancy),  of  whom  two 
have  followed  her, — a  son,  Benjamin  Wisner  Bacon,  in  January, 
1848,  who  had  been  graduated  at  Yale  College  the  previous  sum- 
mer with  high  honor;  and  a  daughter,  who  bore  her  mother's 
name,  and  who  died  in  1853,  in  her  fourteenth  year.  In  184*7, 
Dr.  Bacon  was  married  to  a  daughter  of  the  late  Hon.  Nathaniel 
Terry,  of  Hartford ;  and  three  children  have  been  given  the  parents 
in  the  place  of  the  three  whom  God  had  taken  away.  One  son, 
Rev.  L.  W.  Bacon,  has  already  acquired  considerable  reputation  as  a 
writer  and  reviewer.  Another  son  is  a  physician  in  Texas,  and  a 
man  of  reliable  character  and  excellent  position. 

It  will  be  seen  that  Dr.  Bacon  embodies  to  a  remarkable  degree 
the  distinctive  features  of  New  England  character  and  New  England 
theology.  He  has  the  New  England  self-reliance,  energy,  and  adapta- 
tion. He  turns  his  hand,  or  rather  his  head,  to  a  variety  of  topics, 
and  is  successful  in  all.  He  has  the  dogged  industry  and  the  elastic 
perseverance  of  the  race,  together  with  their  keenness,  shrewdness, 
good  sense,  and  humor.  He  has  their  innate  fondness  for  contro- 
versy, their  tact  in  dialectics,  their  love  for  investigation.  He  has 
the  New  England  firmness  and  compactness  of  mental  structure, 
tough  and  knotty  in  its  natural  state,  but  susceptible  of  the  highest 
pohsh,  and  often  wrought  into  beautiful  forms.  He  has  the  New 
England  impatience  of  any  control  which  is  not  self-control — together 
with  her  cautious  conservatism — which  projects  itself  in  the  Repub- 


330  LEONARD  BACON. 

lican  State  and  the  Congregational  Church.  And,  finally,  he  has 
studied  her  history,  and  written  it,  and  become  identified  with  it, 
not  alone  through  acquisition,  but  by  his  own  fife.  He  is  the  New 
EniTland  preacher.  K  a  congress  of  representative  men  were  to  as- 
semble in  London,  New  England  might  well  send  Leonard  Bacon 
of  New  Haven. 


^^' 


I  rrf^  Crli/cL  rcL^i//Uy 


r. 


THEODOUE  LEDYARD  CUYLER, 

THE  EEFORMER  AND  PKEACHER. 


'  The  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  was  a  widow. 


The  American  Pulpit  includes  not  a  few  preacliers  characterized 
by  their  advocacy  of  what  are  styled  "  the  Reforms  of  the  day," 
of  which,  for  many  years,  the  Temperance  Reform  has  been  the 
chief.  These  preachers  are  not  confined  to  any  one  denomination. 
Tyng  of  the  Episcopal,  Barnes  of  the  Presbyterian,  Beecher  and 
Kirk  of  the  Congregational,  Chapin  of  the  Restorationist,  Osgood  of 
the  Unitarian,  Cuyler  of  the  Dutch  Church,  and  others,  are  pro- 
nounced "  Reformers."  Neither  do  they  all  advocate  every  Reform 
movement,  unless  we  except  the  Temperance  Reform,  in  which  they 
are  united.  One  is  distinguished  for  his  zeal  in  behalf  of  the 
"  Children's  Aid  Society,"  another  in  behalf  of  "  Homes  for  the 
Friendless,"  another  in  behalf  of  the  Slave,  and  another  for  his  de- 
nunciation of  Theatres  and  Gambling.  But  they  bave  two  charac- 
teristics in  common.  They  are  all  extempore  preachers,  and  they 
are  all  beneficent  Christians.  "  Out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh,"  is  their  descriptive  point.  The  ground  on  which 
they  meet  is  the  popular  platform,  and  the  bond  of  union,  their 
sympathy  with  human  misery,  their  faith  in  human  restoration,  and 
their  behef  that  external  relief  precedes  internal  regeneration.  They 
approach  the  religious  nature  not  only  directly  by  religious  truth, 
but  indirectly  by  bodily  comforts.  They  prepare  for  heart-purifica- 
tion by  first  washing,  clothing,  and  housing  the  body.    They  reform 


332  THEODORE  LEDTARD  CUYLER. 

destroying  appetites  by  providing  healthy  and  natural  stimulants. 
They  feed  the  hungry  stomach  before  administering  the  "  bread  of 
hfe."  They  give  to  the  unfortunate  all  those  appliances  of  physical 
comfort,  and  agreeable  surroundings,  and  social  entertainments, 
which  have  been  the  means  of  preservation  to  the  fortunate.  Hope 
they  rekindle,  self-respect  they  support  and  protect,  till,  by  slow  de- 
grees and  through  long  anxieties,  it  lifts  its  drooping  form,  and 
stands  in  the  vigor  and  beauty  of  a  new  life.  They  give  work  to 
the  hands,  and  occupation  to  the  thoughts,  and  recreation  to  the 
leisure  hours.  They  believe  Christ  taught  that  the  amelioration  of 
the  Physical  is  a  prerequisite  to  the  elevation  of  the  Moral.  Yet 
this  class  of  "  Reformers"  and  preachers  do  not  make  the  pulpit 
secondary  to  the  platform,  nor  physical  regeneration  an  end  in  itself. 
The  preaching  of  the  Gospel  is  their  main  pursuit,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  the  soul  their  chief  purpose.  Neither  are  pulpit  ministra- 
tions deteriorated  by  platform  harangues,  nor  is  spirituality  alloyed 
by  attention  to  the  physical ;  on  the  contrary,  the  Gospel  seems  to* 
shine  wnth  a  richer  lustre,  and  love  to  God  burn  with  an  intenser 
fire. 

We  have  selected  Mr.  Cuyler  as  the  best  representative  of  this 
class,  because  he  is  associated  with  a  greater  variety  of  reforms  than 
any  other,  and  because  he  includes  all  the  characteristics  of  the 
class.  He  pleads  in  behalf  of  Mr.  Brace's  "  Children's  Aid  So- 
ciety ;"  he  appears  as  the  champion  of  Mr.  Pease's  "  Five  Points 
Mission  ;"  his  labors  in  behalf  of  Temperance  are  imusual ;  his  sym- 
pathy for  the  oppressed  of  foreign  lands,  and  for  the  enslaved  of 
this,  is  deep  and  outspoken.  He  has  also  the  gift  of  Extempore 
which  distinguishes  the  class.  He  resembles  Mr.  Kirk  in  his  power 
of  arousing  emotion  and  touching  the  tenderest  sensibilities,  differ- 
ing from  him  somewhat  in  the  means.  Mr.  Kirk  makes  direct  ap- 
peals of  gentle  persuasiveness  or  of  thrilling  paraphrase,  with  voice 
modulated  so  as  to  impart  the  greatest  effect.  Mr.  Cuyler  elabo- 
rates descriptions  of  thrilling  circumstance,  and  deals  in  glowing 
imagery,  in  finely-wrought  analogies,  and  in  historical  illustrations, 
which  enchain  attention  and  stir  emotion.  He  resembles  Gough  in 
making  outward  delineation  picture  soul-experience.     Take,  for  ex- 


CHAEACTERISTICS    OF   HIS   PREACHING.  333 

ample,  Gough's  noted  portrayal  of  the  downwai'd  career  of  the 
pleasure-seeker,  by  the  analogy  of  a  sailing  party  drawn  into  the 
Norway  Maelstrom — the  afternoon  bright  and  still — the  danger  un 
known — the  quiet  propulsion  of  the  outermost  current  enjoyed — 
the  warnings  of  friends  unheeded — the  inner  circle  reached — the 
current  s\vifter — the  danger  recognized — the  frantic  efforts — the 
snapping  oars — ^the  roar  of  the  engulfing  whirlpool — ^the  shriek  of 
the  victims,  and  all  is  over  !  In  such  elaboration  Mr.  Cuyler  delights 
and  excels. 

In  analogies  from  nature  he  is  also  very  happy.  We  heard  a 
sermon  on  Regeneration  from  the  text — "  I  will  take  away  their 
stony  heart  and  will  give  them  a  heart  of  flesh,"  in  which  the 
analogies  were  well  adapted  not  only  to  secure  attention,  but  to 
make  permanent  impression.  Another  sermon,  from  the  text  "  The 
righteous  shall  grow  like  a  cedar  in  Lebanon,"  developing  the  many 
resemblances  between  the  real  Christian  and  the  cedar,  was  not 
only  an  ingenious,  but  an  impressive  presentation  of  the  truth.  In 
this  he  resembles  Dr.  Tyng,  of  whom  he  also  reminds  us  in  his  pre- 
cision and  emphasis  of  utterance  and  abruptness  of  close. 

These  characteristics  constitute  the  attraction  of  his  preaching. 
He  is  a  favorite  with  young  men,  like  all  those  with  whom,  in 
our  grouping,  he  is  associated.  His  voice  is  strong,  wider  in 
its  range  than  Mr.  Beecher's,  but  not  so  sonorous  and  musical 
as  Mr.  Kirk's ;  while  he  evolves  power,  by  a  swell  of  tone  on 
the  vowels,  with  more  effect  than  either.  In  adaptation  of  gesture 
and  personal  presence  he  does  not  equal  Mr.  Kirk,  as  few  do. 
Neither  has  he  the  dramatic  picturing  of  thought,  by  look  and  atti- 
tude, peculiar  to  Mr.  Beecher,  yet  he  is  not  inferior  to  him  in  the 
department  of  gesture  and  action,  producing  by  their  means  marked 
effect.  He  resembles  Mr.  Gough  more  nearly  than  any  one,  in  the 
sphere  of  impassioned  delivery.  He  has  much  the  same  style  of 
illustration  and  appeal,  with  the  free  use  of  voice  and  arm,  though 
restrained  somewhat  by  the  place  and  subject,  the  sanctities  of  which 
do  not  allow  unlimited  sweep  of  declamation.  In  form  he  is  a 
counterpart  of  Mr.  Gough,  and  we  may  also  add  that  in  friendship  they 
are  brothers.     And  Mr.  Cuyler  resembles  these  three  popular  ora- 


334  THEODORE   LEDTARD   CUi'LEK. 

tors— Kirk,  Beecher,  and  Gough— in  that  peculiar  friendly  intona- 
tion which,  at  the  outset,  wins  the  hearer,  and  is  an  important  ele- 
ment of  their  successful  oratory.  One  is  drawn  insensibly  within  the 
circle  of  their  influence  by  those  genial  tones  which  result,  not  from 
any  special  gift  of  musical  utterance,  but  from  the  heart-sympathies 
and  yearnmgs  which  always  attend  their  ministrations  to  the  people. 
And,  finally,  Mr.  Cuyler  resembles  every  indi\adual  of  our  group 
(except,  perhaps,  Mr.  Barnes),  in  this,  that  their  best  expressions 
flow  from  the  tongue  and  not  from  the  pen,  and  that  they  attain 
their  highest  inspiration  and  fullest  eloquence  only  before  a  sea  of 
upturned  faces.  Indeed,  it  is  not  uncommon  for  Mr.  Cuyler  to 
forsake  the  notes  before  him,  and,  lifted  on  the  wings  of  a  more 
buoyant  inspiration  than  that  of  the  closet,  soar  away  in  the  freer, 
stronger  sweep  of  unpremeditated  Extempore. 


BIOGRAPHY, 


Theodore  L.  Cuyler  was  bom  on  the  10th  of  January,  1822,  at 
Aurora,  New  York,  a  beautiful  town  on  the  shore  of  Cayuga  Lake. 
His  father,  B.  Ledyard  Cuyler,  was  a  young  lawyer  of  great  promise, 
and  an  intimate  friend  and  room-mate  at  college  of  Gerritt  Smith, 
with  much  the  same  oratorical  power.  He  died  at  the  age  of 
twenty-nme,  leaving  Theodore,  his  only  child,  when  four  years  old. 
Theodore's  mother  was  Miss  Louisa  F.  Morrell,  a  woman  of  strong 
intellect  and  active  piety,  who  has  always  been  the  companion  of 
her  son,  and  now  resides  with  him  in  New  York.  His  great-grand- 
father was  Rev.  Dr.  Johnes,  who  administered  the  sacrament  to 
Washington  during  his  winter  encampment  at  Morristown,  and  was 
pastor  of  the  church  at  Morristown  for  fifty  years.  Washington 
was  much  at  his  house,  and  Mr.  Cuyler  has  now  in  his  parlor  the 
large  china  bowl  out  of  which  Washington  was  accustomed  to  drink 
his  favorite  beverage  of  chocolate  when  enjoying  Dr.  Johnes's  hospi- 
tality. 

On  the  father's  side  Mr.  Cuyler  is  related  to  John  Ledyard,  the 
traveller.     His  father's  mother,  Mary  Ledyard,  was  a  cousin.     The 


BIOGRAPHY- 


335 


family  were  of  New  London,  Connecticut.     Colonel  Wmiam  Led- 
yard,  liis  great  uncle,  was  an  officer  at  the  siege  of  Fort  Griswold. 

Ja'cob  Cuyler,  who  was  mayor  of  Albany  for  thirty  years,  and  the 
prince  of  conservative  Dutch  bm'gomasters,  was  an  ancestor. 

m.  Cuyler  entered  Princeton  College  in  1838,  and  was  gradu- 
ated, at  the  age  of  nineteen,  in  1841.  His  standing  in  every  respect 
was  of  the  best,  excelling,  however,  in  Belles-Lettres  and  in  public 
speaking.  His  college  life  was  very  happy,  partly  in  consequence  of 
the  kindness  of  Professor  Henry,  now  superintendent  of  the  Smith-  ^ 
sonian  Institute,  of  whom  he  was  somewhat  of  a  protege,  and  to 
whom  he  is  greatly  indebted  for  happy  influence  and  fruitful  conversa- 
tions.   He  was  also  much  in  the  family  of  Dr.  Archibald  Alexander. 

The  next  year  after  graduation  he  spent  in  Europe,  and  wrote 
sketches  of  foreign  travel,  and  particularly  of  distinguished  men- 
Wordsworth,  Carlyle,  and  others— which  attracted  at  the  time  con- 
siderable attention.  And  it  is  worthy  of  note,  inasmuch  as  he  was 
only  twenty  years  old,  that  when  at  Glasgow  he  addressed  the  citi- 
zens, at  the  City  Hall,  on  the  first  reception  of  Father  Mathew. 

Mr.  Cuyler  entered  the  Princeton  Theological  Seminary  in  1843, 
and  was  graduated  in  May,  1846.  He  spent  the  next  six  months 
in  preaching  at  a  small  place  in  Wyoming  Valley,  opposite  Wilkes- 
barre,  the  region  immortalized  by  death  and  by  poetry,  of  which 
Campbell  writes : 

"  On  Susquehanna's  side,  fair  "Wyoming ! 

Although  the  wild-flowers  on  thy  ruined  wall 
And  roofless  homes,  a  sad  remembrance  bring 

Of  what  thy  gentle  people  did  befall : 
Yet  thou  wert  once  the  loveliest  land  of  all 

That  see  the  Atlantic  wave  their  morn  restore. 
Sweet  land !  may  I  thy  lost  delights  recall, 

And  paint  thy  Gertrude  in  her  bowers  of  yore, 
Whose  beauty  was  the  love  of  Pennsylvania's  shore  !" 

Dr.  Murray,  of  Elizabethtown,  New  Jersey,  preached  at  the  same 
place  in  early  life. 

In  the  autumn  of  1846  he  accepted  a  call  to  a  Presbyterian  Church 
at  Burlington,  New  Jersey,  where  he  remained  three  years.    It  wjis 


336  THEODOKE  LEDYAKD  CUYLER. 

au  excellent  place  for  liim.  His  people  were  kind  and  true,  and 
his  audience,  made  up  partly  of  cultivated  people,  and  partly  of  an 
intelligent  laboring  population,  stimulated  him  to  cultivate  the 
excellencies  of  simple  discourse,  together  with  those  of  finished  rhe- 
toric. He  devoted  himself  much  to  writing  and  study,  and  had 
more  time  for  them  than  at  any  day  since.  In  the  second  year,  an 
extensive  and  delightful  revival  occurred,  in  which  the  pastor  was 
assisted  by  Dr.  Bethune,  then  of  Philadelphia,  Dr.  Van  Rensselaer, 
of  "Burlington,  and  others. 

In  the  autumn  of  1849  Mr.  Cuyler  accepted  a  call  to  gather  a 
new  congregation  in  Trenton,  the  capital  of  New  Jersey.  This  en- 
terprise was  initiated  principally  by  young  men.  The  new  society 
erected  an  elegant  freestone  church  during  the  following  year ;  and 
Mr.  Cuyler  met  the  best  expectations  of  his  friends. 

In  March,  1853,  Mr.  Cuyler  was  married  to  Annie  E.  Mathiot, 
daughter  of  the  late  Hon.  Joshua  Mathiot,  member  of  Congress  from 
the  central  distiict  of  Ohio. 

In  May,  1853,  he  resigned  his  charge  at  Trenton  to  accept  a  call 
to  the  new  Shawmut  Congregational  Church  of  Boston ;  but  some 
little  bronchial  trouble  showing  itself,  and  physicians  objecting  to  the 
climate,  he  declined  the  proposal,  and  accepted  a  call  to  the  "  Market- 
street  Reformed  Dutch  Church"  of  New  York. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Cuyler's  graduation,  he  was  urged  to  take 
charge  of  a  quarterly  review  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  published 
at  Princeton.  Has  characteristics  are  admirably  adapted  to  editorial 
success ;  and  he  would  probably  have  entered  the  profession  of  the 
Press  if  his  fondness  for  public  speaking — a  fondness  inherited  from 
his  father,  whom,  indeed,  he  strikingly  resembles — had  not  deten*ed 
him.  While  in  the  seminary,  he  spoke  much  at  religious  meetings, 
on  the  plan  of  "Mr.  Kirk's  adoption,  in  neighboring  school-houses  and 
groves.  He  esteems  this  course  the  right  one.  It  teaches  one  to 
speak :  as  Lord  Brougham  said,  "  One  must  first  learn  to  speak,  and 
then  he  can  learn  to  speak  welV^  During  the  last  six  years  he  has 
preached  every  Sabbath  (with  one  exception)  usually  twice,  and  not 
infrequently  three  times. 

Mr.  Cuyler  has  published  a  few  sermons,  and  not  a  little  in  the 


337 

newspapers,  over  the  signature  of  "  T.  L.  C."  Some  of  these  brief 
articles  have  been  collected  in  a  small  volume,  entitled  "  Stray 
An-ows,"  issued  by  the  Carters.  His  writings  are  favorites  of  the 
public,  and  usually,  as  editors  say,  "  go  the  rounds."  An  editor 
once  remarked,  that  he  saw  sentences  of  Mr.  Cuyler's  in  his  ex- 
changes oftener  than  those  of  any  other  man. 

He  has  published  two  Temperance  Tracts,  entitled  "  Somebody's 
Son"  and  '*  His  Own  Daughter."  They  apply  to  the  practice  of 
offering  liquors  to  friends  on  New  Year  day,  and  are  certainly  very 
effective.  We  once  heard  Joseph  Hoxie,  of  New  York,  say  in  a 
public  meeting,  that  after  having  offered  wine  for  twenty  years,  he 
should  do  it  no  more,  for  "  Somebody's  Son"  had  demolished  his 
decanters.  This  tract  has  had  a  circulation  of  about  one  hundred 
thousand.  Some  of  the  best  members  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association  formed  themselves  into  a  volunteer  force  to  spread 
it  over  the  city  before  the  New  Year  of  1855.  And  on  one  after- 
noon we  remember  how  peculiar  the  effect  was  to  see  persons  in 
cars,  stages,  and  on  sidewalks,  having  a  two-leaved  copy  of  "  Some- 
body's Son."     Probably  fifty  thousand  people  read  it  that  day. 

Mr.  Cuyler  has  been  a  regular  contributor  to  "The  Presbyterian," 
and  now  writes  for  "  The  Christian  Intelligencer,"  the  organ  of  the 
Reformed  Dutch  Church.  His  sympathy  with  young  men  has  led 
him  to  be  also  an  active  supporter  of  the  "Young  Men's  Christian 
Association."  He  delivered  the  last  anniversary  address ;  has  de- 
livered three  or  four  discourses  before  its  members,  attended  their 
meetings,  and  taken  part  in  their  debates. 

Probably  Mr.  Cuyler's  forte  in  preaching  lies  in  picturesque  de- 
scription and  the  weaving  in  of  scenes  and  illustrations  from  Scrip- 
ture and  from  daily  life.  When  he  preaches  doctrinal  sermons,  he 
avoids  technicalities.  He  is  fond  of  narrative  and  biographical  dis- 
courses. His  texts  are  usually  short,  and  those  passages  chosen 
which  will  arrest  attention,  such  as,  "  Only  believe  ;"  "  What  wilt 
thou  ?"  "  Stand,  therefore  ;"  "  Pray  without  ceasing  ;"  "  Remem- 
ber ;"  "  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?"  &c. 

He  expends  the  most  labor  on  the  opening  and  close  of  a  sermon, 
so  far,  at  least,  as  style,  rhetoric,  and  polish  are  concerned.     He 

22 


33S  THEODOBE  LEDYARD  CUYLEE. 

makes  the  opening  attractive  by  some  original  form  of  illustration, 
and  the  close  impressive  by  forcible  appeal.  Thus  he  enlists  atten- 
tion at  the  outset,  and  leaves  abiding  effect  at  the  conclusion.  The 
following  extracts  will  illustrate  this.  The  first  is  the  commence- 
ment of  a  sermon  entitled  "  Faith  and  Works  :'* 

"  The  second  chapter  of  the  Epistle  by  James  seems,  to  my  mind, 
to  describe  a  spiritual  wedding.  We  are  '  bidden  to  a  marriage.' 
And,  as  at  the  olden  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  the  Holy  Master 
is  present,  and  consummates  the  nuptials.  The  parties  to  be  united 
are  but  symbolic  personages,  and  yet  are  real  and  life-hke,  too.  The 
bride  is  young  and  beautiful — ever  young,  and  ever  clothed  upon 
with  light  as  with  a  garment.    Like  Milton's  Eve,  she  was 

'  For  softness  formed,  and  sweet  attractive  grace.' 

Her  face  is  clear  as  the  day — her  look  is  firm,  and  yet  trustful.  She 
is  not  of  the  earth,  but  Heaven-born,  and  wears  her  celestial  parent- 
age in  every  lineament  of  her  radiant  countenance.  Her  name  is 
Faith.     She  is  the  daughter  of  God. 

"And  beside  her  stands  one  whose  lusty  form  was  made  for 
deeds  of  daring  and  endurance.  He  is  sinewy  and  athletic.  There 
is  valor  in  his  eye,  and  '  cunning  in  his  ten  fingers,'  and  strength  in 
his  right  arm.  He  was  created  to  act,  to  do,  to  suffer.  He  was 
fonned  for  strife  and  struggle.     His  name  is  Action. 

"  With  solemn  rites,  the  two  are  joined  in  wedlock.  They  are 
both  to  love  and  both  to  obey.  They  are  always  to  live,  and  move, 
and  suffer,  and  conquer  together.  They  are  to  be  the  fruitful  parents 
of  every  thing  good  on  earth.  On  them,  while  united,  Jehovah 
pronounces  a  '  blessing'  richer  than  that  which  gladdened  the  nup- 
tials of  Isaac  and  Rebekah,  or  of  Jacob  and  Leah.  "^Vhile  united^ 
they  are  to  live,  and  grow,  and  conquer.  W^hen  separated^  they 
are  to  droop  and  perish.  For  each  other,  and  in  each  other,  and 
■s^ith  each  other,  their  days  of  struggle  and  of  victory  are  to  be 
passed,  until  time  shall  be  no  longer.  And  so  Faith  and  Works 
were  coupled  by  Infinite  Wisdom  ;  and  in  the  presence  of  the  world 
it  was  solemnly  announced,  '  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let 
not  man  put  asunder.' 


SERMON.  339 

"From  tliat  union  have  sprung  a  glorious  progeny.  All  the 
miglity  deeds  which  have  ennobled  and  elevated  humanity  own 
that  parentage.  Faith  and  Action  have  been  the  source,  under  God, 
of  every  thing  good,  and  great,  and  enduring,  in  the  Church  of 
Christ ;  the  very  Church  itself  exists  through  them.  The  early 
Apostles  went  out  with  their  glad  evangel  to  the  nations,  under  this 
double  impulse,  and  with  this  double  watchword.  It  was  not 
enough  to  '  believe  my  Gospel ;'  they  were  also  to  '  preach  my 
Gospel.'  It  was  not  enough  to  love  in  the  heart ;  the  whole  life 
was  to  be  an  embodiment  and  outflow  of  love.  It  was  not  enough 
to  have  a  meek  and  gentle  spirit ;  the  young  Church  was  to  return 
good  for  evil,  and  thus  overcome  evil  with  good.  The  Church  was 
not  only  to  be  sound  in  heart,  but  active  in  limb  and  sinew  also. 
It  was  to  be  a  militant  Church,  contending  earnestly  for  the  faith 
delivered  to  the  saints — a  courageous  Church,  standing  fast  for  the 
Gospel — a  suppliant  Church,  praying  without  ceasing — a  busy 
Church,  redeeming  the  time — a  patient  Church,  bearing  with  all 
long-suffering — ^and  a  conquering  Church,  to  evangelize  all  nations. 
Its  model  men  were  men  of  faith  and  action.  Through  that  apos- 
tolic Biad,  the  great  Apostle  seems  to  fly  like  a  thunderbolt,  kin- 
dhng,  and  consuming  !  He  is  all  ablaze  with  zeal.  At  Lystra  re- 
buking the  deluded  worshippers — at  Jerusalem  confronting  the 
Pharisee,  and  the  rulers  on  the  castle  stairs — at  Cesarsea  startHng 
Agrippa  on  his  tribunal — at  Rome  preaching  the  reviled  Gospel, 
both  in  his  '  own  hired  house,'  and  in  Csesar's  palace — he  is  every- 
where the  believer  in  full  action,  with  the  heart  to  feel,  and  the 
hand  to  do.  And  such  have  been  God's  true  evangelists  ever  since. 
Such  was  Luther,  the  flaming  iconoclast  of  Europe — to-day  writing 
theses  and  commentaries,  and  to-morrow  translating  the  Scriptures, 
or  hurhng  fresh  invective  against  the  black  domination  of  the  Man 
of  Sin.  Such  were  Baxter,  the  indefatigable  pastor ;  Edwards,  the 
perpetual  thinker ;  Neander,  the  perpetual  student ;  Owen,  the  per- 
petual writer ;  Knox,  the  untiring  reformer ;  Whitefield,  the  untiring 
preacher ;  and  Chalmers,  who  appears  to  have  been  pastor,  preacher, 
writer,  thinker,  and  reformer,  all  in  one.  Brethren  !  such  may  God 
honor  us  in  being.     A  faith,  sound  as  that  of  the  Westminster  As- 


340  THEODOIiE    LEDYAKD    CUVLER. 

sembly,  vrill  not  save  the  dying  world  around  us,  unless  it  flows  out 
into  action.  For  *wilt  thou  know,  O  man!'  and  all  men  in  all 
God's  heritage,  that '  as  the  body  without  the  spirit  is  dead,  so  faith 
without  works  is  dead  also.'  " 

The  following  are  the  opening  passages  of  a  New  Year  discourse : 

"  The  procession  has  at  length  passed  by.  The  last  lingerer  has 
gone.     We  have  seen  its  end. 

"  It  was  a  long,  long  procession,  full  thirty  millions  strong  1  It 
began  its  melancholy  march  on  New  Year  day,  one  year  ago.  It 
moved  with  ceaseless  step — thousands  treading  at  once.  It  kept 
moving ;  and  when  the  clock  tolled  twelve  night  before  last,  the  last 
footfall  was  heard  passing  out  into  eternity. 

"  In  that  procession — moving  to  black  nodding  plumes  and  solemn 
dirges — ^were  the  parent  and  the  child,  the  husband  and  the  clinging 
wife,  the  strong  son  and  the  tender  daughter.  Among  them  were 
the  lover  in  his  love,  the  hater  in  his  hate,  the  vicious  in  his  vice, 
the  mourner  in  her  sorrows,  the  saint  in  his  joys,  and  the  sinner  in 
his  sins.  Great  men  trode  by,  with  pride  unsubdued  to  the  end. 
Women  of  rank  and  beauty  passed  on — going  down  to  '  darkness 
and  the  worm.'  The  outcast  and  the  wretched  stole  along,  unseen 
of  men  but  seen  by  their  Father  in  Heaven.  A  President  of  this 
Union  was  in  that  procession.  England's  first  statesman  was  in  that 
long  array.  Carolina's  man  of  iron,  John  C.  Calhoun,  passed  on  a 
little  way  beforo  him.  The  loving  and  venerated  Wordsworth 
walked  in  it  too,  with  gray  head  and  tottering  steps,  but  gathering 
flowers  to  the  last.  God's  faithful  ministers  by  scores  walked  in  it ; 
and  amid  them  that  aged  missionary  who  found  his  heaven  of  labor 
in  Burmah  until  Jesus  took  him  to  a  heaven  of  rest  beside  the  crystal 
waters. 

"  But  who  are  all  these  ?  Who  make  up  that  mighty  array  ?  I 
answer — they  are  the  dead  of  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty  !  They 
are  all  gone.  Yesterday  a  new  procession  began  to  form,  and 
perhaps  you  and  I  may  join  it.  For  'man  knoweth  not  his 
time.'" 

Mr.  Cuyler  once  closed  a  discourse  on  Christ  in  the  following 
words  : 


SELECTIONS.  341 

"  Whatever  else  you  may  see  in  heaven,  my  brother !  there  is 
one  sight  you  will  be  certain  to  behold.  Whatever  else  you  may 
hear,  there  is  one  anthem  of  music  celestial  that  shall  swell  up  sweet 
and  seraphic  upon  your  ear. 

"  You  will  see  all  eyes  fixed  on  one  central  Object.  You  will 
behold  the  flashing  shower  of  golden  crowns  flung  before  the  feet  of 
one  majestic  Being.  You  will  hear  one  great  outburst  of  melody. 
The  burden  of  the  strain  will  be — '  Unto  Him  that  loved  us  and 
washed  us  in  His  blood,  be  the  praise  and  the  dominion  forever !' 
And  the  answering  chorus  from  every  grateful  spirit  is,  '  Thou  art 
worthy !  for  Thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by  Thy 
blood,  and  hast  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  Him  forever !'  No 
mortal's  name  shall  be  heard  of  then.  Paul  shall  be  lost  sight  of  in 
the  beatific  gaze  at  Paul's  Redeemer.  Luther  shall  be  unseen  amid 
the  worship  of  Him  who  was  Luther's  Reformer.  John  Calvin  shall 
sing,  None  but  Christ!  And  John  Wesley  shall  shout  back,  None 
hut  Christ !  The  princeliest  intellect  shall  claim  chorus  with  the 
humblest  child  in  chanting,  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  !  With  one  heart 
and  one  voice  they  will  roll  high  the  magnificent  acclaim — '  Worthy 
is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain  to  receive  honor  and  glory  and  power 
and  blessing  forever  and  ever !' " 

The  following  paragraph  was  reported  fi'om  the  conclusion  of  a 
sermon  on  "  The  Time  is  Short :" 

"  My  friend  of  threescore  and  ten !  the  clock  of  your  existence  is 
nearly  worn  out.  The  wheels  have  grown  rusty.  The  springs  are 
corroded.  Brush  off  the  dust  from  its  face,  and  you  will  see  that 
the  hands  point  almost  to  midnight.  Your  course  is  nearly  run. 
The  '  time  is  short.'  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God.  Give  thy  heart 
and  hopes  and  thoughts  to  Christ.  And  what  thou  doest,  do 
quickly  !     Before  to-morrow  morning^  thy  clock  ma,y  stop  forever .'" 

Mr.  Cuyler  does  not  apply  discernment  to  analyze  nice  theological 
distinctions,  but  his  language  and  illustration  and  observation  are 
put  to  work  on  the  actions  and  experiences  and  motives  and  sur- 
roundings of  his  hearers.  He  deals  directly  with  the  human  race, 
and  not  with  theological  systems.  His  hearers  find  that  the  thoughts, 
the  business,  the  wants,  and  the  questionings,  which  have  been  with 


34:2  THEODOEE   LEDYAKD    CUTLEE. 

tliern  all  the  week,  are  made  to  stand  forth  in  the  light  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  to  be  judged  by  the  standard  of  God's  righteous  law.  The 
Sabbath  poms  its  discriminating  hght  upon  the  six  days  of  labor, 
and  the  human  heart  stands  confronted  before  an  aroused  conscience 
through  the  fidelity  of  his  descriptions  and  illustrations.  It  is  this 
which  induces  the  resemblance  in  his  preaching  to  the  oratory  of 
the  bar  or  the  platform  which  is  criticised  by  some. 

In  this  connection  we  will  allude  to  his  view  of  the  Christian 
life,  as  not  a  gloomy  life,  not  sacrificing  happiness,  not  exchanging 
privileges  here  for  greater  joys  hereafter ;  but  rather  as  a  life  full  of 
gain  and  richness  in  this  world.  He  rebukes  those  Christians 
who,  in  prayer  or  exhortation,  speak  in  minor  tones  of  having 
given  up  all  for  Christ,  as  if  they  had  made  a  great  sacrifice  of 
good. 

Mr.  Cuyler  is  a  favorite  platform  speaker,  and  in  much  demand. 
During  the  last  two  years  he  has  probably  looked  more  people  in 
the  face  than  any  other  minister  except  Mr.  Beecher.  During  the 
last  year  he  has  given  about  one  hundred  addresses,  outside  of  his 
regular  pulpit  ministrations,  many  of  which  were  platform  speeches, 
before  the  largest  audiences.  He  has  spoken  at  nearly  all  the  May 
anniversaries.  His  regular  preaching  includes  two  sermons  on  the 
Sabbath,  a  Thursday  evening  lecture,  and  a  brief  talk  at  the  Tuesday 
evening  prayer-meeting. 

It  is  a  trait  worthy  of  note  in  Mr.  Cuyler,  which,  indeed,  forms  a 
part  of  that  pecuhar  character  which  constitutes  "the  Reformer 
and  Preacher,"  that  he  is  not  attracted  by  calls  to  large  and 
established  chm-ches,  but  has  felt,  within  himself,  the  desire  to 
build  up  a  church  new  from  the  beginning.  This  has  marked  his 
course  thus  far  in  life.  His  nature  seems  to  demand  the  interest  of 
an  untried  enterprise.  Successful  accomplishment  is  followed  not 
by  suitable  enjoyment,  but  inspires  to  renewed  eftbrts  in  some  other 
field. 

It  was  this  impulsion  which  bore  him  from  Burhngton  to  Tren- 
ton ;  this  which  led  him  to  look  towards  Boston ;  and  although  his 
church  in  Xew  York  is  not  a  new  one  (at  which  his  predecessor, 
the  distinguished  Dr.  Ferris,  Chancellor  of  the  University,  preached 


CHUECH  ACCESSIONS.  343 

for  seventeen  years),  yet  it  had,  also,  the  attraction  of  a  new  enter- 
prise. New  York  gi'ows  as  the  sea  in  some  places  encroaches  on  the 
continent ;  warehouses  and  stores  by  steady  pressure  drive  dwelHng- 
houses  and  churches  "  up  town."  One  after  another  is  touched  by 
the  advancing  tide,  surrounded,  undermined,  and  engulfed.  Mr. 
Sommers's  Nassau-street  church  is  an  instance ;  St.  George's  Chapel 
is  another ;  but  it  is  felt  to  be  essential  that  there  should  be  some 
churches  "  down  town"  to  afford  religious  privileges  to  the  residents 
who  still  cHng  to  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  also  to  the  young 
men  who  find  homes  in  the  hotels  and  boarding-houses,  which  seek 
the  neighborhood  of  business.  Market-street  Church  was  going 
the  way  of  all  down-town  churches  when  Mr.  Cuyler  came.  The 
enterprise  was  to  anchor  it  in  the  advancing  tide.  It  has  been 
done.  Old  established  families  who  were  on  the  point  of  changing 
their  church  relations,  have  stayed.  New  families  have  come  in — 
nearly  one  hundred  during  the  last  two  years.  Young  men 
gather  to  hear  him,  so  that  on  Sunday  evening  his  church  is 
crowded,  at  times,  like  Mv.  Beecher's,  with  galleries  and  aisles  full. 
Many  attend  his  services  who  would  not  go  anywhere  else.  Sev- 
eral thousand  dollars  have  been  expended  the  last  year  in  refit- 
ting the  church-building,  so  that  it  is  of  very  cheerful  aspect; 
and,  happier  than  all,  during  the  last  winter  a  revival,  quiet, 
thorough,  and  extensive  in  its  character,  has  been  granted  his  peo- 
ple, and  the  accessions  to  his  church  have  been  not  only  large,  but 
embracing,  to  an  unusual  extent,  business  men  in  the  strength  of 
early  manhood. 

In  a  sermon  preached  in  England,  Mr.  Kirk  said,  "  It  is  a  fact 
which  none  can  dispute,  that  every  minister  of  Christ  may  learn 
something  by  coming  in  close  contact  with  the  minds  of  his  peo- 
ple. It  is  a  grand  mistake  to  wait  at  home  and  expect  that  our 
people  will  come  to  us  ;  we  must  go  out  in  quest  of  them,  and  as- 
certain definitely  what  is  their  state  of  mind,  and  what  impressions 
our  sermons  produce.  We  stay  at  home  and  study  theology  in  our 
closets,  till,  by  abstract  meditation,  we  reach  a  point  intellectually 
far  beyond  the  reach  of  our  people.  We  learn  the  meaning  of 
technical  words  and  term.s,  about  which  our  people  know  compara- 


3i4  THEODORE   LEDYARD   CUYLER. 

tively  nothing.  We  tliink  they  do,  but  in  this  we  often  labor  under 
a  great  mistake.  To  us  these  words  are  talismans,  calling  up  deep 
emotions  ;  to  them  they  are  cold  and  unmeaning.  There  are  men, 
for  instance,  who  throughout  the  whole  week  have  been  doing  noth- 
ing but  counting  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  They  are  in  no  way 
prepared  either  to  listen  to  or  to  understand  their  minister  on  the 
Sabbath." 

Mr.  Cuyler  carries  out  the  principle  urged  by  Mr.  Kirk.  He  min- 
gles freely  and  happily  with  his  people.  His  feelings  are  social  and 
sympathetic  ;  his  conversation  is  fluent,  and  interspersed  with  illus- 
trative anecdote,  lively  metaphor,  and  felicitous  quotation ;  his  man- 
ner natural,  cordial,  and  frank ;  his  tone  of  voice  full,  encouraging, 
and  also  gentle ;  so  that  he  unites  the  gifts  which  elicit  friendly 
feeling,  promote  freedom  of  social  intercourse,  and  bind  a  pastor  to 
his  people  by  the  innumerable  threads  of  friendly  intercourse,  rather 
than  by  the  one  cable  of  a  profound  and  distant  reverence.  Hence 
he  combines  to  an  unusual  degree  success  in  pastoral  labor,  with 
success  in  preaching.  He  teaches  his  people  quite  as  much  out  of 
the  pulpit  as  in  it.  He  seeks  to  make  his  church  an  organized 
band  who  "  go  about  doing  good,"  in  working  sympathy  with  the 
poor  and  outcast.  He  also  diffuses  a  zeal  in  "  lengthening  the 
cords  and  strengthening  the  stakes"  of  their  own  influence.  Mr. 
Cuyler  is  accessible  both  in  the  parlor  and  in  the  pulpit.  One  is 
sure  of  hospitality  at  church  as  well  as  at  home. 

One  can  little  realize  what  a  difference  exists  in  different  churches 
with  respect  to  polite  treatment  of  strangers,  without  a  wide  expeii- 
ence.  In  some,  all  home-rules  of  politeness  are  ignored.  The  stranger 
is  kept  standing  in  the  porch  till  every  pewholder  is  seated.  A 
surly  sexton  at  last  shows  him  to  a  pew,  whose  occupant  looks  a 
"  What  business  have  you  here  ?"  No  hymn-book  or  prayer-book 
is  offered  during  the  service,  and  no  welcoming  look  is  granted 
.from  beginning  to  end.  In  Christian  contrast  to  this  is  Mr.  Cuyler's 
church.  As  in  Mr.  Beecher's,  an  appointed  mmiber  of  the  principal 
men  of  the  society  are  occupied  before  service  in  pleasantly  receiv- 
ing and  seating  strangers.  "  A  welcome  to  our  board,  where  is 
spread  the  bread  of  life  "  speaks  from  every  pew,  and  fills  the  porch. 


CITY   MISSION   SERMON.  345 

Is  there  not  a  lesson  to  be  learned  of  pew  hospitality,  which  will 
do  quite  as  much  as  pulpit  eloquence  to  attract  young  men  to  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  ? 

The  following  passages,  taken  from  a  discourse  on  City  Missions, 
illustrate  Mr.  Cuyler's  character  as  a  "  Reformer  :" 

"  By  this  time  you  may  inquire — Where  is  the  remedy  ?  What 
can  we  do  ?  To  these  inquiries  we  would  reply,  that,  as  no  clean 
result  can  come  from  an  unclean  source,  the  primal  remedy  is  to 
purify  the  sources  themselves.  This  work  is  a  double  one.  It  must 
be  applied  both  to  the  body  and  to  the  soul.  The  external  man  and 
the  internal  man  should  both  be  reformed.  Each  one  of  these  processes 
is  essential.  The  second  is  by  far  the  most  important ;  but  in  order 
to  reach  it,  the  first  one  must  not  be  neglected.  For  it  is  no  easy 
work  to  Christianize  a  ragged  outcast,  with  a  half  dozen  layers  of 
filth  all  over  his  frame,  and  no  bread  in  his  mouth  but  what  he  gets 
by  begging  or  stealing.  It  is  no  easy  task  to  Christianize  a  child 
by  two  hours  of  Sabbath-school  teaching,  while  the  devil  has  un- 
disputed control  over  that  child  through  all  the  hours  of  all  the 
other  six  days  of  the  week.  It  is  no  easy  matter  to  make  a  vagrant 
girl  obey  either  the  seventh  or  the  eighth  commandment,  if  abso- 
lute want  is  driving  her  to  theft  or  to  the  sale  of  her  womanhood  to 
buy  her  bread.  The  soul  must  be  cared  for,  and  the  physical  con- 
dition, too.  The  Bible  and  the  tract  should  be  given  to  these  out- 
casts ;  but  a  preliminary  step  is  to  do  all  we  can  to  provide  for  them 
a  clean  face  and  a  clean  dress,  and  a  better  chance  to  live  without 
crime.  Let  us  endeavor  to  give  them  employment — to  help  them 
into  places  of  livehhood.  Let  them  learn  to  be,  not  paupers,  but 
producers — not  mendicants  and  plunderers,  but  self-respecting  self- 
supporters.  And  then,  with  this  care  for  the  perishing  body,  let  us 
give  them  the  Gospel.  Not  as  a  cold  abstraction  or  a  theologic  dog- 
ma do  they  need  it,  but  as  a  plain,  simple  method  of  salvation,  and 
as  a  practical  rule  of  life.  Let  them  have  it  free,  and  warm,  and 
loving — just  as  it  burst  from  Heaven  in  its  fulness,  just  as  it  breathed 
from  Calvary  in  its  tenderness.  Let  it  come  to  them  in  every  pos- 
sible channel — through  the  teacher,  through  the  tract  visitor,  through 
the  school,  through  the  mission  church,  and  through  the  eflbrts  of 


BW  THEODORE   LEDYAED   CUTLER. 

private  Christians ;  for  all  the  disciples  of  Christ  should  covet  a 
place  in  practical  philanthroi^y." 

"  As  a  community,  we  are  one.  Fifth  Avenue  is  linked  to  the 
Five  Points ;  the  dwellers  on  our  elegant  squares  are  at  one  with  the 
dwellers  in  the  pauper  garrets.  The  advancement  of  each  class  is 
the  advancement  of  the  whole ;  the  degradation  of  one  class  im- 
perils all  the  rest.  When  one  member  suffers,  all  suffer.  The  self- 
styled  '  conservative'  may  wrap  himself  about  with  his  own  selfish- 
ness, and  on  the  gorgeous  sofas  of  his  tapestried  drawing-room  may 
shut  his  eyes  and  close  his  ears  to  the  wants  and  woes  of  the 
'  rabble'  multitudes.  He  may  say  to  us,  '  Let  them  alone.'  But 
will  they  let  us  alone  ?  Will  they  let  him  alone  ?  He  may  leave 
the  dram-shop  unprohibited,  but  will  the  dram-shop  leave  his  sons 
untempted  ?  He  may  let  the  gaming-house  go  unsnppressed,  but  will 
the  gamblers  leave  his  clerk  or  apprentice  untouched?  He  may  refuse 
to  make  effort  for  the  rescue  of  the  wretched  harlot  who  treads  the 
midnight  street,  but  she  shall  lay  snares  for  him  and  his,  perhaps  to 
their  undoings  He  may  allow  the  courts,  and  alleys,  and  cellars  of 
the  poor  to  fester  in  pollution  and  filth,  but  will  the  cholera,  which 
they  manufacture,  hesitate  to  invade  his  lordly  threshold?  But 
there  is  a  higher  argument  for  Christian  hearts  than  this.  It  is  the 
double  argument,  based  on  the  moral  glory  of  saving  immortal  souls, 
and  on  the  honor  which  every  such  triumph  brings  to  our  crucified 
^Master."    We  close  with — 

SIX  THOUGHTS   ON   CHRISTIAN  REFORM. 

"  There  are  two  great  classes  of  reformers  in  our  day.  The  one 
class  hold  that  human  nature  can  be  advanced  to  its  highest  point 
without  the  atoning  work  of  Christ  or  the  inward  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  They  do  not  rely  for  human  reformation  on  the  Gospel 
of  the  cross,  but  on  cleanly  habits,  fresh  air,  good  wages,  temperate 
living,  mental  culture,  and  the  moral  code  of  the  Bible.  This  school 
are  mainly  Socinians,  and  embrace  many  earnest,  kind-hearted  labor- 
ers. In  England  their  most  distinguished  leaders  are  Charles  Dick- 
ens, the  Howitts,  Mr.  Fox,  Miss  Martineau,  and  the  writers  in  the 
'London  Leader.'     Mr.   Kingsley,   the   author   of  'Alton  Locke,' 


SIX   THOTIGHTS  ON   CHRISTIAN   REFORM.  34:7 

holds  some  views  in  common  with  them.  He  is  a  Trinitarian,  but 
abuses  Calvinism  roundly.  In  this  country  their  most  prominent 
representative-man  and  leader  is  Mr.  Greeley,  of  the  Tribune.  The 
cardinal  mistake  of  this  school  is,  that  man  is  an  improvable  being 
without  the  work  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Spirit. 

"  2.  The  other  school  rely  for  human  advancement  mainly  on  the 
Gospel  faithfully  preached  and  practised.  But  the  q^uestion  is.  What 
is  the  Gospel  ?  Sometimes  it  is  restricted  to  Chiist's  atonement. 
Sometimes  it  is  used  to  signify  the  whole  Bible.  Those  who  restrict 
it  to  its  fii-st  meaning,  and  preach  accordingly,  undoubtedly  commit 
a  great  error.  Christ  crucified  is  certainly  the  fundamental  docrine 
of  the  pulpit,  but  faith  in  Christ  is  not  all  that  God*s  servants  are  to 
preach.  Paul  preached  more  than  that  to  Felix.  He  not  only  de- 
clared Christ  his  Master  to  the  Roman  ruler,  but  he  thundered  into 
the  ears  of  his  trembling  auditor  the  individual  sins  of  which  that 
auditor  was  guilty — adultery,  cruelty,  and  intemperance.  He  took  a 
wide  range,  and  yet  brought  all  home  to  the  ruler's  startled  con- 
science. Now  on  this  very  point  lies  the  practical  error  of  many  of 
our  second  class  of  reformers.  They  would  save  men,  and  purify 
society,  and  advance  the  race*,  but  do  not  unfold  the  whole  Bible  in 
its  wide  sweep  of  duty. 

"For  example,  this  technically  styled  *  conservative'  class  insist  (and 
rightly  too)  that  intemperance  is  to  be  checked  by  the  Gospel.  But 
how  ?  By  preaching  onli/  the  doctrines  of  the  redemption  ?  It  does 
not  so  strike  us.  Let  the  atonement  be  made  most  prominent,  but 
also  let  God's  teachers  keep  not  back  the  perils  of  the  wine-cup,  and 
the  terrific  doom  of  the  drunkard.  Let  them  practice  temperance, 
and  preach  out  the  complete  Bible  law  of  temperance  too.  Then 
individuals  will  be  saved  from  the  inebriate's  grave,  and  public  senti- 
ment purified  at  the  same  time. 

*'  So  in  regard  to  the  curse  of  slavery.  K  removed,  it  is  to  be  by 
the  Gospel — the  whole  Bible.,  preached  boldly  and  in  love.  Is  it 
enough  for  the  Southern  minister  to  unfold  only  the  way  of  salvation 
to  his  auditors?  He  has  another  work  still  assigned  him  by  his 
Redeemer.  Just  imagine,  that  every  Christian  minister  in  Georgia 
should  say  (in  substance)  to  his  slaveholding  auditor :  '  The  Bible 


348  THEODORE  LEDTAED  CUTLEK. 

says,  search  the  Scriptures.  The  law  of  Georgia  forbids  the  slave 
to  be  taught.  God  must  l)e  obeyed,  not  man ;  that  law  ought  to  be 
repealed,  and  if  not  repealed,  practically  disregarded,  and  these  negro 
servants  taught  to  read  their  Bibles.'  Again:  'The  Scriptures 
say  that  the  husband  and  wife  shall  cleave  together;  therefore 
you  shall  not  separate  Aunt  Chloe  from  Uncle  Tom.'  Again  : 
*  The  child  shall  honor  its  father  and  mother.  You  shall  not,  there- 
fore, tear  the  negro  child  from  its  parents.  Give  to  your  bondmen 
their  wages — Do  unto  them  as  ye  would  that  they  should  do  unto 
you.' 

"  Now  all  these  plain  truths  may  be  spoken  out,  in  love,  from  eveiy 
Southern  pulpit  and  every  church  court.  The  want  of  such  utter- 
ances has  gone  far  towards  perpetuating  the  opprobrious  system. 
K  every  minister  of  Christ  would  preach  out  the  whole  Bible  to  his 
plantation-auditor,  it  would  do  more  real  good,  ten  thousand  fold, 
than  all  the  fiery  tracts  of  Garrison,  and  the  gunpowder  eloquence 
of  Wendell  Phillips.  All  that  slavery  needs  to  finish  it  is — the 
WHOLE  Bible,  preached  out,  and  carried  out  into  practice.  So 
with  every  other  sin  or  popular  evil.  God's  plan  is  to  remove  it 
by  His  law  and  the  power  of  His  grace.  Only  let  men  hear  the 
entire  law,  and  be  made  to  see  the  sins  of  which  they  are  guilty ; 
and  that  from  these  sins,  when  forsaken,  Christ's  blood  can  freely 
save  them. 

"  3.  The  State  may  do  much  for  Christian  reform  in  this  country. 
We  are  a  repubhc.  Every  citizen  is  a  ruler.  Voting  is  not  merely 
a  privilege — it  is  a  trust.  It  entails  a  duty.  A  Christian  reformer 
can,  therefore,  help  to  make  good  laws,  to  establish  statutes  against 
lotteries,  tippling-houses,  brothels,  adultery,  &c.  He  can  labor  in 
slaveholding  States  for  the  repeal  of  odious  and  unchristian  laws 
bearing  on  slavery,  and  for  the  extinction  of  the  evil  itself  in  a 
legalized  way.  Moral  suasion  underlies  all  legal  improvements.  But 
God's  truth  should  be  written  on  human  statute-books  as  well  as  on 
human  hearts.  Here,  too,  we  need  the  whole  Book  of  God  in  order 
to  exhibit  man's  every  duty  as  a  Christian  and  patriot. 

"4.  The  Church  must  not  leave  social  reforms  to  'outsiders.' 


SIX   THOrGHTS   ON   CHEISTIAN   EEFORM.  349 

God's  people  have  a  divine  motive  to  work,  and  a  divine  rule  to 
work  by.  The  temperance  and  the  anti-slavery  movements  have 
suffered  fearfully  by  being  left  to  corrupt  demagogues,  to  self-seekers, 
to  headstrong  enthusiasts,  to  men  who  fear  not  God,  whether  they 
'love  their  brother'  or  not.  The  cause  of  temperance,  with  its 
clear  Bible  warrants,  and  its  lofty  mission  of  mercy  to  the  tempted 
and  the  perishing,  has  been  trailed  in  the  mire  by  strolling  vaga- 
bonds and  selfish  intriguers  for  'spoils.'  This  is  partially  the 
fault  of  the  Church.  Good  men  in  the  pulpit  and  without,  might 
all  do  what  the  Frelinghuysens,  the  Barneses,  the  Lyman  Beechers, 
and  the  Walworths  have  so  nobly  aimed  to  do.  The  Devil  '  makes 
capital'  out  of  a  seeming  indifference  of  many  in  the  Church  to 
social  ills  and  sorrows.  The  world  needs  the  Church  in  every  effort 
of  reform.  If  the  people  of  God  even  aiypear  indifferent  to  admitted 
evils,  skepticism  is  promoted  by  that  very  appearance. 

"  5.  Every  Christian  is  bound  to  be  a  thorough  conservative,  and 
a  thorough  radical  at  the  same  time.  He  is  to  be  a  radical  in  op- 
posing evil,  that  is,  he  must  go  to  the  root  of  the  evil.  Moral  com- 
promises are  invariably  wrong.  The  Bible  does  not  tolerate  them. 
Half  the  work  of  good  men  is  good  for  nothing  because  it  is  only 
half-worh.  God's  word  goes  to  the  roots  of  things.  At  the  same 
time  that  the  Christian  reformer  is  thoroughly  radical  in  plucking 
up  sin  (or  doing  what  God  appoints  him  to  do  for  that  object),  he 
is  to  be  carefully  conservative  of  every  thing  that  is  true,  and  good, 
and  pure,  and  lovely,  and  of  good  report.  He  venerates  the  right. 
He  reveals  all  that  God  has  sanctioned.  He  goeth  about  the  an- 
cient bulwarks  which  God  has  established,  and  '  telleth  the  towers' 
with  humble  loyalty  and  love.  He  is  a  man  among  men,  but  a 
child  towards  Jehovah.  Such  was  Ezra,  the  ancient  reformer. 
Such  was  Paul.  Such  was  Luther;  he  lifted  not  his  axe  even 
against  Romanism  until  God  taught  him  that  it  was  a  Upas^  and 
then  he  dealt  his  blows  imtil  Europe  startled  at  the  echo. 

"  6.  Every  soul  that  loves  God,  and  pities  dying  humanity,  is  called 
to  the  work  of  reform.  The  word  reformer  should  be  synonymous 
with  Christian  the  world  over.     And  next  to  faith  in  God  and  the 


350  THEODORE  LEDYAED  CUTLER. 

cross,  should  be  our  faith  in  truth.  The  whole  truth  unconcealed 
and  'uncompromising.  The  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  The  truth  as 
Paul  preached  it,  and  as  stout  martyrs  have  bled  for  it.  It  is  like 
the  sea.  The  mists  of  error  may  obscure  it  for  a  time— nights  ot 
prejudice  may  settle  down  on  it,  but  there  it  is, '  still  beating  on  with 
victorious  pulse,  and  waiting  for  the  day.'  " 


X^r    C€>^ 


SAMUEL  HANSON  COX. 


Upon  earth  there  is  not  his  like. 


Samuel  Hanson  Cox  was  bom  August  25tli,  1793.  His  father, 
James  Cox,  descended  from  the  first  settlers  of  Talbot  county,  Mary- 
land, was  born  in  Dover,  Kent  county,  Delaware,  December  28, 
1766,  and  died  in  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  January  4,  1801,  at  the 
early  age  of  thirty-four  years.  His  mother,  a  native  of  Philadelphia, 
still  lives  in  that  city,  in  the  eighty-eighth  year  of  her  age.  They 
were  members  of  the  Society  of  Friends ;  were  married  February  13, 
1*791 ;  removed  from  Philadelphia  March  23,  1*792,  to  Rahway, 
New  Jersey,  where,  at  Leesville,  as  now  called,  Samuel  H.  Cox  was 
born.  His  father  at  that  time  was  extensively  engaged  in  mercan- 
tile pursuits  in  Pearl-street,  New  York,  of  the  firm  of  Cox,  White- 
head &  Co.  He  was  a  man  of  energy,  uprightness,  and  compre- 
hensive views,  esteemed  and  honored  by  all  who  knew  him. 

Of  his  father,  Dr.  Cox  affectionately  and  truthfully  says :  "  My 
father  carefully  educated  me  in  the  principles  of  Friends.  He  had 
a  great  reverence  for  the  Holy  Scriptures,  a  practical  and  conscien- 
tious regard  for  *  the  Lord's  day,'  and  boldness  for  the  truth  of  re- 
ligion among  its  adversaries ;  a  nice  sense  of  honor ;  uniform  decis- 
ion in  the  cause  of  virtue ;  an  unfeigned  charitableness  towards  all 
serious  Christians ;  and  an  inflexible  consistency  of  deportment.  He 
was  an  example  of  universal  temperance:  tenderly  humane  and 
self-denying  in  his  offices  of  beneficence,  and  distinguished  as  the 
friend  of  the  black  man  in  all  his  degradations.  In  these  respects 
his  eldest  son  may  be  allowed  to  pay  a  tearful,  solemn,  and  most 
affectionate  tribute  to  his  memory  1" 


352  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

His  mother  and  family — three  sons  and  two  daughters — after 
their  bereavement  retm'ned  to  Philadelphia.  Here  Samuel  H.  Cox 
attended  school  till,  in  the  year  1811,  he  removed  to  Newark,  New 
Jersey,  in  order  to  study  law  with  the  late  William  Halsey,  Esq., 
an  eminent  counsellor  in  that  city.  Enthusiastic  in  the  pursuit  of 
his  chosen  profession,  he  prosecuted  its  studies  with  avidity  and  suc- 
cess, till  November,  1812,  when  the  subject  of  rehgion  became  chief 
in  his  thoughts,  engaged  his  affections,  and  resulted  in  the  change  of 
his  profession  from  law  to  theology. 

Of  the  youthful  character  of  Dr.  Cox,  as  exemplified  in  a  religious 
direction,  we  shall  best  speak  in  his  own  words : 

"  I  would  not  here  imply  that  sobriety  and  moderation  were  the 
early  characteristics  of  my  religion.  I  was  impetuous;  decisive ;  per- 
fectly assured ;  ecstatically  happy  in  God ;  resolved  to  confess  Jesus 
Christ  anywhere ;  anxious  to  show  others  the  way  to  blessedness ; 
totally  inexperienced,  and  not  properly  impressed  with  the  necessity 
of  experience  in  order  to  usefulness,  supposing  I  should  always  'walk 
in  the  light,  as  He  is  in  the  light,'  and  anticipating  no  reverses ;  ig- 
norant of  the  wanton  enmity  men  actually  cherished  against  the 
Gospel ;  and  often  inconsiderate  in  the  way,  place,  time,  and  style  of 
addressing  them  on  the  matters  of  religion.  In  principles,  however, 
I  have  always  been  substantially  the  same ;  nor  do  I  know  that, 
since  the  period  of  spiritual  nativity,  I  have  ever  had  one  deep  de- 
liberate doubt  of  the  truth  and  excellence  of  Christianity,  or  of  the 
general  meaning  of  the  Scriptures.  Reverses,  however,  I  did  expe- 
rience— ^just  as  extreme,  pungent,  and  complete  as  the  joys  that  pre- 
ceded them  were  high.  My  hope  left  me  after  a  few  weeks,  my 
joys  all  dried  away,  and  the  deepest  melancholy  of  darkness  that 
could  be  felt  embowered  me.  I  felt  that  I  had  been  deluded,  hypo- 
critically wild  in  my  rejoicings ; — not  that  I  doubted  religion :  I 
doubted  only  myself!  Thus  extremes  and  opposites  succeeded, 
till  '  tribulation  wrought  patience ;  and  patience,  experience ;  and 
experience,  hope;'  and  thus  'the  God  of  all  grace,  who  hath 
called  us  unto  His  eternal  glory  by  Christ  Jesus,'  is  wont  to  ac- 
comphsh  his  people — 'establish,  strengthen,  settle  them;  to  Him 
be   glory   and   dominion   forever    and   ever.      Amen.' — 1  Pet.  v. 


RELIGIOUS   EXPERIENCE.  353 

10, 11.  I  have  since  compared  my  feelings  in  religion  to  tlie  vibra- 
tions of  the  pendulum  of  an  open  clock,  whose  first  movements 
when  energetically  started,  incline  almost  to  cover  one  hundred  and 
eighty  degrees  of  the  circle ;  but  gradually  subsiding  from  extremes, 
and  losing  the  momentum  of  extravagance,  every  movement  be- 
comes more  regular ;  the  deep  central  attraction  influences  more ; 
its  motions  are  more  orderly  and  useful ;  and  at  last  it  assumes  that 
state  of  punctual  and  measured  gravity  which  it  keeps  to  the  end  of 
its  'appointed  time;'  and  without  which,  however  costly  its  ma- 
terial or  polished  its  exterior,  or  comely  its  proportions,  it  would  be 
of  no  utility.  That  I  have  gained  the  point  of  perfect  regularity,  I 
am  very  far  from  asserting ;  but  that  I  have  held  my  way,  in  the 
main,  progressive,  I  do  believe,  just  as  really  as  I  know  that  I  am 
still  imperfect  and  have  much  to  learn." 

Of  his  religious  experiences,  as  given  by  himself,  we  deem  the 
following  extract  worthy  of  attention,  as  interesting  in  matter,  as 
illustrative  of  the  man,  and  as  a  fair  specimen  of  his  style : 

"  I  became  uneasy  and  troubled  in  spirit.  I  knew  not  the  cause, 
nor  even  the  nature  of  my  unhappiness.  Sinners  under  the  special 
influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  a  revival  of  religion,  I  had  never 
seen.  I  knew  not  that  any  creature  had  ever  felt  as  I  felt,  or  that 
there  was  any  excellence  of  nature  or  promise  in  such  agitation. 
So  pungent  was  the  misery,  so  undefined  and  unappreciated  the  in- 
fluence, that  I  was  not  even  aware  of  its  connection  with  religion. 
Consequently  I  tried  every  means  in  my  power  to  dissipate  it.  I 
went  into  company,  frequented  parties,  invented  sports,  commenced 
the  study  of  the  French  language  with  an  accomplished  French  gen- 
tleman, whose  manners  and  society  pleased  me,  but  whose  prin- 
ciples of  fatalism,  and  whose  habits  of  profligacy,  shocked  me ; 
for,  to  these  things  I  had  not  been  habituated.  Finding,  at  last, 
that  every  efibrt  was  vain,  and  every  resource  insipid,  I  resolved  to 
study  more  dihgently,  to  try  to  excel  in  my  profession,  and  to  pur- 
sue this,  to  the  exclusion  of  every  thing  else,  as  my  supreme  good 
being  then  occupied  in  the  ofiSce  of  a  respectable  counsellor,  as  a  stu- 
dent of  law.  Hence  I  studied  laboriously,  and  with  a  kind  of  fren- 
zied determination.    I  separated  from  associates,  and  tried  to  wear 

23 


354  SAMUEL   HANSON   COX. 

the  vizor  of  misantliropy,  that  I  might  keep  all  intruders  at  a  dis- 
tance. Here  a  new  misery  disturbed  me.  I  could  not  keep  my 
mind,  as  formerly,  on  the  topics  and  paragraphs  of  the  law-book ! 
Not  even  the  style  of  Blackstone,  of  which  I  had  always  been  enam- 
ored, could  retain  my  strangely  discursive  thoughts.  I  felt  a  kind 
of  romantic  cmiosity  to  study  the  Scriptures,  and  made  it  a  virtue 
to  deny  myself  the  pleasure.  It  appeared  a  random,  unprofitable 
longing  of  the  mind,  that  required,  as  it  received,  a  resolute  coercion. 
/  will  study ^  was  my  half-angry  motto.  And  so  I  did,  laboriously, 
and  to  no  purpose.  I  went  over  a  page,  perhaps  ten  times,  and  could 
not  retain  one  line  or  thought  of  it.  The  book  appeared  hke  '  van- 
ity,' and  the  study  like  '  vexation  of  spirit.'  Still  I  persevered ;  grew 
daily  more  wretched ;  and  felt  that  I  had  no  ftiend  in  the  world  to 
whom  I  could  unbosom  my  sorrows  and  disburden  my  soul !  One 
day,  while  vacantly  meditating  over  a  law-book,  not  on  its  contents, 
but  on  the  atheism  of  Diderot  and  other  authors,  officiously  loaned 
me  by  my  French  instructor,  and  which  I  had  perused  and  returned 
weeks  before,  it  was  strangely  impressed  on  my  mind  that  I  had 
better  turn  atheist,  if  I  could,  for  the  sake  of  consistency  ;  for  he  is 
consistent,  thought  I,  with  himself  who,  never  worshipping  God, 
also  denies  His  existence ;  but  for  me  there  is  no  such  honor.  I  ac- 
knowledge His  being,  and  live  as  if  I  had  ascertained  the  contrary ! 
I  was  much  agitated,  but  broke  the  somnium  with  my  motto,  I  will 
study.  Thus  passed  my  days  for  many  weeks ;  till  once,  when  par- 
ticularly chagrined  at  the  lubricity  of  law  in  its  contact  with  my 
efforts  of  mind  to  retain  it,  my  attention  was  suddenly  fixed  and 
charmed  with  the  volume.  I  felt  a  relief  and  a  recreation  of  mind 
such  as  had  long  been  unknown.  My  two  diverse  objects  were  un- 
expectedly blended ;  the  desire  to  investigate  Scripture,  and  the  re- 
solve to  study,  seemed  to  meet  at  once,  and  be  strangely  reconciled. 

"  This  unexpected  pleasure  was  produced  by  the  occurrence  of  a 
scriptural  quotation  from  Matt.  v.  25  :  *  Agree  with  thine  adversary 
quickly,  whilst  thou  art  in  the  way  with  him.'  It  was  in  the  third 
volume  of  Blackstone,  chap.  20,  p.  298,  on  Pleading. 

"  I  was  delightfully  engrossed ;  and  finding  that  to  proceed  with 
regular  study  was  to  lose  the  attractive  objects — was  to  launch  out 


RELIGIOUS   EXPERIENCE.  355 

again  into  the  inclement  element,  and  that  the  margin  of  the  page 
on  which  my  eye  then  rested,  referred  me  to  the  chapter  and  ver'^e 
of  the  Pentateuch,  where  I  might  also  study  other  words  of  that  an- 
cient lawyer  at  large,  I  arose  with  alacrity  (being  then  alone  in  the 
office),  and  went  to  that  corner  of  the  library  where  our  learned  pre- 
ceptor kept  his  very  valuable  volumes  of  theology.  There  I  found  a 
Bible,  and,  hastily  snatching  it,  I  was  soon  fixed  in  the  perusal  of 
the  connection  to  which  I  was  referred.  Thus  a  quotation  in  a  law- 
book was,  in  Providence,  associated  with  my  first  or  best  convictions 
in  religion. 

"  Without  more  detail  of  incidents,  dear  to  my  memory,  but  of 
less  interest  to  others,  suffice  it  that  I  now  commenced  the  reading 
of  the  Scriptures  alone,  and  in  good  earnest.     Conviction  increased 
as  I  proceeded,  and  soon  became  overpowering.     At  last  my  knees 
bowed,  my  soul  bowed  with  them,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life ;  I 
prayed,  and  solemnly  devoted  myself  to  the  Author  of  my  being  and 
the  hope  of  my  soul,  to  be  Ris  forever,  to  follow  Jesus  Christ '  through 
good  report  and  e\dl  report ;'  and  by  His  *  strength  made  perfect  In 
weakness,'  to  glorify  Him  in  the  ways  of  truth,  through  tiftie  and  eter- 
nity.    As  soon  as  I  had  made  this  surrendry,  conscious  as  I  was  of 
its  unspeakable  solemnity  and  perfect  irretrievableness,  I  was  assaulted 
with  a  fierce  temptation,  with  a  succession  of  *  fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked'  one,  all  mainly  in  this  form  :  You  have  made  a  vow  which 
you  will  never  keep  ;  you  have  peijured  your  soul  forever ;  you  are 
lost!     You  be  religious!     You  are  a  hypocrite,  a  fool,  a  fiend! 
You  will  apostatize  in  less  than  three  weeks,  and,  at  last,  make  your 
bed  in  hell— a  hateful,  ruined  wretch  !     Alas !  thought  I,  it  is  cer- 
tainly true.     I  am  wicked,  and  never  felt  worse  than  now  that  I  wish 
to  be  good !     Here  my  sins  began  to  disgorge  themselves  to  my 
view.     '  Sin  revived,  and  I  died— and  the  commandment,  which  was 
ordained  to  life,  I  found  to  be  unto  death.     For  sin,  taking  occasion 
by  the  commandment,  deceived  me,  and  by  it  slew  me.     Wherefore 
the  law  is  holy,  and  the  commandment  holy,  and  just,  and  good.' 
And  thus  it  was  that  sin  '  became  exceeding  sinful'  in  my  renewed 
perceptions.     For  several  weeks  my  situation  was  wretched— inde- 
scribably wretched.     I  had  plighted  my  being  to  ser\^e  my  Maker ; 


356  SAMUEL    UAXSON    COX. 

but  this  implied  that  I  should  become  qualified  for  the  service  thai 
was  spiritual,  and  filial,  and  august.  Instead  of  this,  it  was  gloom, 
sin,  and  fearful  anticipation.  I  had  no  peace,  and  hope  seemed  a 
phantom  of  indefinite  characteristics  that  continually  eluded  my 
grasp. 

"  One  thing  that  marked  this  dark  hour,  or  rather  month,  in  my 
memory,  was  a  peculiar  conviction  of  sin  ;  not  only  of  its  superla- 
tively evil  nature,  that  deserves  all  that  God  denounces  against  it  in 
His  word,  and  that  I  was  such  a  sinner  as  His  truth  describes ;  but 
that  I  had  sinned  unutterably  much  against  His  Gospel,  in  slighting 
it,  and  specially  against  His  holy  word,  in  daring  to  reason  against 
it.  The  insolence  and  the  insufferable  abomination  of  such  neglect 
of '  the  oracles  of  God'  appeared  to  me,  as  seen  in  the  light  of  the 
goodness  and  the  greatness  of  their  adorable  Author,  astonishingly 
evil !  And  I  wondered  why  I  was  not  in  hell ;  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  ought  to  go  there,  and  that  if  I  had  any  virtue  I  should  approve  ot 
the  righteousness  and  excellency  of  such  a  measure,  as  what  ought  to 
be.  It  seemed  impossible  that  I  should  ever  be  saved — translated  to 
those  halcyon  seats  of  God,  and  admitted  to  His  holy  presence  for- 
ever. The  degree  of  these  exercises,  depending,  in  part,  as  I  now 
suppose,  upon  the  singular  ardency  of  my  native  temperament,  I  do 
not  attempt  to  describe  ;  and  would  scarcely  rehearse  to  my  nearest 
friend  the  forms  of  excessive  perturbation  that  harrowed  up  my  soul 
till  the  fearful  conflict  was  over.  This  occurred  one  night,  on  my 
knees,  by  my  bedside.  The  service  of  prayer  had  before  seemed  at 
once  impossible  to  be,  by  me,  either  omitted  or  performed.  Then  it 
was  easy — it  was  delightful.  How  long  I  now  continued  praising, 
rather  than  praying,  in  this  posture,  I  know  not.  But  this  I  know, 
that  my  soul  seemed  absorbed  in  the  glory  of  God — the  chamber  lu- 
minous with  His  presence,  the  universe  glorious  for  His  sake,  while 
halleluias  kept  me  delightfully  awake  until  morning  ! 

*'  The  luminous  appearance  of  the  chamber  and  of  the  bed  where 
I  lay,  contained  from  the  sight  of  distant  objects,  which  the  darkness 
of  a  cloudy  November  night  (1812)  would  have  rendered  invisible 
had  there  been  no  intervening  drapery  to  deepen  it,  I  have  pur- 
posely mentioned,  and  now  proceed  to  explain.     A  sober  philosophy, 


EELIGIOrS   EXPERIENCE.  357 

as  I  then  thouglit,  and  now  know,  can  perfectly  resolve  it.  The 
state  of  one's  mind,  in  proportion  to  the  intensity  of  its  affections,  as 
melancholy  or  mirthful,  as  vigorous  or  languid,  as  imaginative  or 
plodding,  imparts  its  own  character  to  surrounding  objects ;  and 
often  induces  the  sensation  that  the  character  is  in  the  objects,  and 
not  in  the  mind.  Nearly  the  same  sentiment  is  more  scientifically 
given  by  that  great  father  of  sound  reasoning.  Lord  Bacon.  A  little 
obstinate  rationality,  as  Dr.  Johnson  calls  it,  kept  me  then  and  since 
from  the  profound  or  the  sublime  of  religious  enthusiasm.  Had  I 
yielded  to  feeling,  to  imagination,  and  seeming  revelation^  at  a  time 
when  the  genuine  influences  of  the  Spirit  of  God  (as  I  beheve)  had 
made  me  happy  in  Him,  and  thrilled  my  soul  with  holy  ravishment, 
I  might  have  been  a  devout  madman,  inspired^  or  any  thing  else,  in 
my  own  esteem.  But  the  balance  of  my  mind  was  restored  by  re- 
flection. '  The  truth  and  soberness  of  Christianity  induced  that  re- 
flection, and  made  me  know  that  I  ought  to  exercise  my  understand- 
ing, and  '  try  the  spirits'  in  every  direction,  before  I  trusted  them. 
The  case  of  Col.  Gardner  I  had  previously  heard  or  read,  and  it  then 
recurred  to  me.  Were  it  not,  thought  I,  that  I  happen  to  know 
better,  I  could  see  and  tell  of  prodigies,  of  'angelic  apparition  and 
miraculous  glory,  as  well  as  others ;  and  now  it  seems  clear  to  me 
how  the  excellent  Gardiner  was  deceived,  and  how  thousands  of  re- 
ligious enthusiasts  first  come  by  their  commission.  I  ascribe  it,  un- 
der God,  to  the  power  of  His  loritten  truth  alone,  that  I  became  not 
then  a  disciple  of  moonshine  and  extravagance.  The  wonder  is  the 
greater,  that  I  was  by  education  predisposed  to  it.  The  spring  of 
the  affections,  or  zeal  in  religion,  however  genuine,  requires  the  bal- 
ance-wheel of  sound  scriptural  instruction  to  regulate  its  movements 
and  secure  its  utility.  Much  am  I  indebted,  whom  nature  made  so 
ardent,  and  education  so  moulded  to  enthusiasm — much  do  I  owe  to 
the  sober  voice  of  Scripture,  for  all  the  steadiness  of  faith,  the  sobri- 
ety of  character,  and  the  uniformity  of  action,  which  I  have  been 
enabled,  in  some  degree  (yet  imperfectly),  to  exemplify.  'Having 
therefore  obtained  help  of  God,  I  continue  unto  this  day,  witness- 
ing both  to  small  and  great,  saying  none  other  things  than  those 
which  the  prophets  and  Moses  did  say  should  come.' — Acts  xxvi.  22. 


358  SAMUEL   HANSON    COX. 

My  soul  lias  often  leaped  for  joy  and  thankfulness  that  the  Great 
Shepherd  hath  so  led  and  kept  me  !  So  will  He  keep  forever  all 
who  truly  trust  Him." 

"  Shortly  after  this  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  God  had  called 
me  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  I  pass  over  the  details  of  self- 
examination  and  trials  in  this  relation,  through  which  I  was  enabled 
to  pass,  by  the  help  of  God  speaking  to  me  in  His  word,  and  com- 
forting my  soul  at  the  throne  of  grace.  I  was  licensed  by  the  Pres- 
bytery of  Xew  York,  in  the  month  of  October,  1816,  to  preach  the 
Gospel ;  and  ordained  to  that  office  by  the  Presbytery  of  Jersey,  at 
Mendham,  July  1,  ISlV.  'Then  Samuel  took  a  stone,  and  set  it 
between  Mispeh  and  Shen,  and  called  the  name  of  it  Eben-ezer, 
saying,  Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  usJ  " 

His  studies  in  divinity  were  prosecuted  partly  under  the  dhection 
of  the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Ptichards,  of  Newark,  and  afterwards  under  that 
of  the  late  Pev.  Dr.  J.  P.  Wilson,  of  Philadelphia. 

His  hfe  at  Mendham,  where  he  remained  four  years,  was  very 
happy.  He  was  the  only  minister  of  any  denomination  in  the  place, 
his  parish  was  extensive,  his  time,  thoughts,  and  sympathies  fully 
occupied,  and  his  church  increased  in  size  and  efficiency. 

In  the  autumn  of  1820  Mr.  Cox  removed  to  New  York,  having 
accepted  a  second  call  from  the  Spring-street  Presbyterian  Church. 
Of  the  opening  of  his  life  here  we  are  able  to  present  his  own  inter- 
esting narration : 

"  This  church  had  become  vacant  eleven  years  from  its  organiza- 
tion, by  the  resignation  of  its  first  pastor,  the  late  Pev.  M.  L.  R.  Per- 
rine,  D.  D.,  in  May,  1820.  This  excellent  man,  and  clear-sighted 
theologian,  afterwards  became  professor  in  the  Theological  Seminary, 
Auburn,  New  York,  till  his  death,  February  12,  1836.  His  man- 
ners, so  characteristically  mild  and  non-aggressive,  his  way  of  read- 
ing every  word  of  his  sermons,  the  sparse  population  of  that  locality 
at  the  time,  and  other  incidental  causes  of  the  sort,  eventuated  in 
the  non-success  of  his  pure  and  pious  ministry.  The  congregation 
was  small ;  and  so  deeply  in  debt,  and  so  increasingly  embarrassed, 
that  when  I  acceded  to  its  charge,  my  friends  deemed  it  an  enter- 
prise of  perilous  uncertainty,  and  many  seemed  to  enjoy  their  owd 


SPRING-STREET   CHURCH.  359 

over-wise  prognostications  of  failure.  With  a  young  and  growing 
family,  I  came  to  the  city  of  New  York,  on  a  stipend  of  support  re- 
latively much  less  than  the  income  I  resigned  in  Mendham.  There 
were  other  causes  of  severe  probation,  which  I  had  to  meet  and  feel 
in  my  new  and  more  ample  sphere. 

"  The  state  of  theology  and  its  allied  controversies  at  that  time 
were  the  occasion  of  severe  and  all-surrounding  trials.  I  was  known 
for  investigation  and  decision  in  my  \dews ;  as  also  to  preach,  as 
well  as  hold,  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  of  Christ,  as  in  its  own 
nature  ample  and  applicable  to  all  mankind ;  as  the  necessary  and 
the  appropriate  basis  of  salvation  offered,  virtually  and  in  fact,  at 
once  consistently  and  sincerely,  by  God  himself,  to  every  creature^ 
in  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel.  The  other  party  held  it  to  be 
limited  every  way  to  the  elect  alone ;  and  what  a  preacher  held,  or 
which  of  the  two  parties  he  joined,  on  this  cardinal  theme,  was  then 
the  criterion  of  his  standing,  and  indeed  the  great  question ;  as  now, 
indeed,  in  altered  times,  it  is  not,  or  it  seems  not,  so  practically  and 
socially  important.  I  was  by  many  regarded  as  a  dangerous  man — 
avoided,  calumniated,  and  clandestinely  opposed,  with  many  a  wise 
and  prompt  prophecy  of  my  eventual  departure  from  the  faith, 
mainly  on  that  account.  Indeed,  I  found  the  infection  working 
among  my  own  people,  and  often  counter-working  the  power  of  my 
scriptural  ministrations.  This  induced  a  serious  crisis,  and  I  resolved 
manfully  to  preach  on  the  subject,  as  the  alternative  of  the  demission 
of  my  pastorate.  But  this  was  like  open  war.  As  a  prudent  pastor, 
I  first  consulted  the  Elders  of  my  church,  who  were  all  conversant 
with  existing  relations,  as  my  proper  official  advisers,  under  the  con- 
stitution, and  all  of  them  my  attached  and  confiding  personal  friends. 
They  were  struck  with  surprise  and  fear  at  the  question.  With  one 
accord  they  answered,  *  No !  you  will  ruin  us  if  you  do.  You  are 
too  young  in  the  city,  in  office,  in  life,  to  attempt  so  perilous  a  task. 
It  will  awaken  controversy ;  it  will  seem  to  invite  it.  It  will  make 
war,  and  probably  insure  failure.  They  are  now  afraid,  and  they 
will  leave  the  church  in  droves.  We  are  in  debt  and  difficulty,  and 
any  special  stir  at  this  time  would  ruin  us.'  And  so  they  said  all. 
This  indeed  was  a  dilemma  of  terrible  distress.     To  do  what  seemed 


360  SAMUEL   HA^S'SON   COX. 

to  be  duty,  was,  in  all  liuman  foreshowing,  to  destroy  my  influence, 
and  probably  to  forfeit  my  place.  To  confoiTQ  pmdentially  to  the 
advice  of  the  Session,  was  like  violating  conscience.  Apart  from  the 
fjiithful  counsels  of  my  beloved  partner  and  excellent  companion  in 
life,  I  seemed  to  have  no  earthly  or  human  sympathizer  or  friend  in 
need.  I  had  One,  however,  that  was  superhuman,  and  to  Uim  I 
had  learned,  not  then  first,  to  resort.  The  result  was,  that  next 
Lord's  day  morning,  at  the  last  of  the  public  notices,  I  announced, 
'  In  the  afternoon,  by  the  will  of  God,  I  propose  to  preach  a  lecture, 
introductory  to  a  series — perhaps  twenty — on  the  great  subject  of 
the  atonement  of  Christ;  its  nature,  its  necessity,  its  extent,  its 
divine  wisdom,  and  its  glorious  relations  to  the  throne  and  the  foot- 
stool, to  God  and  to  man ;  in  which  I  shall  attempt  to  show  and 
identify  the  true  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  at  large,  answering 
all  current  and  important  objections,  and  vindicating  the  truth  of 
God  and  the  proper  basis  of  the  ministrations  of  the  Gospel,  on  that 
grand  and  cardinal  topic  of  our  faith.' 

"  This  made  quite  a  sensation.  All  seemed  to  wait  and  wonder.  I 
felt  the  crisis.  The  ofiicers  of  the  Church  feared  and  communed 
with  each  other,  in  something  like  dismay.  In  the  afternoon,  the 
result  seemed  promising.  The  house  was  full — strangers,  note-takers, 
sage  watchers,  heresy-hunters,  and  a  mixed  congregation,  were  there, 
in  the  galleries;  and  the  result  was  perfect  success.  I  received 
thanks,  acknowledgments,  and,  above  all,  converts.  The  Church 
grew  and  prospered.  The  debt  began  to  grow  less  and  less.  Many 
things  now  combined  to  confirm  and  augment  this  prosperous  state 
of  things.  The  house  was  too  small  for  the  people.  In  1824  they 
began  to  build  in  Laight-street,  corner  of  Varick.  August  28, 1825, 
that  sanctuary  was  occupied  and  dedicated.  It  was  continually 
filled,  and  the  Church  became  increasingly  potential.  In  the  great 
revival  of  1830-31,  its  aisles  were  crowded  with  professing  converts. 
On  one  occasion,  125  stood  together  there,  and  professed  the  religion 
of  Christ,  with  joy  and  high  decision — many  of  whom  endure  to  this 
day,  as  Christians,  bright  and  useful  in  the  world." 

April  10, 1833,  Dr.  Cox  sailed  for  Europe,  his  health  being  broken 
'by  great  labors.     He  travelled  extensively  through  Great  Britain  and 


OF   BROOKLYN.         361 

Ireland ;  as  also  in  France,  Switzerland,  Germany,  and  Holland ;  re- 
turning in  about  seven  months  with  improved  health. 

In  the  spring  of  1834,  Dr.  Cox  was  invited  to  the  Professorship  of 
Sacred  Khetoric  and  Pastoral  Theology  at  Auburn,  which,  on  being 
renewed  in  the  fall,  was  accepted. 

Here  he  remained  till  May,  1837,  when  he  was  ordained  pastor  of 
the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  He  says,  "  My 
translation  from  the  chair  again  to  the  pulpit,  and  especially  in 
this  vicinage  of  my  former  pastorate,  was  pregnant  with  events, 
and  associated  with  results,  partly  foreseen,  yet  in  great  part  utterly 
unanticipated,  which  exacted  from  my  principles  and  my  assiduities 
of  service  in  the  Church,  new  sacrifices  and  extraordinary  efforts, 
both  of  severe  trial  and  of  perilous  responsibihty.  The  controver- 
sies and  parties  that  had  agitated  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  large, 
chiefly  in  her  ministry,  yet  increasingly,  for  mainly  the  whole  of  the 
present  centuiy,  now  found  their  crisis ;  and  the  same  month  in 
which  I  was  installed  by  the  Presbytery  of  New  York  in  the  Brook- 
lyn Church,  those  memorable  and  monstrous  acts  of  exscinding  were 
accomplished  in  the  General  Assembly  at  Philadelphia,  from  which 
the  bisection  of  that  large  and  venerable  communion  necessarily  re- 
sulted, and  tw^o  denominations,  as  they  are  now  organically  distin- 
guished, then  commenced  their  separate  ministrations.  As  a  lover 
of  order  and  hberty,  under  the  supremacy  of  constitutional  law,  in 
Church  and  in  State,  it  was  not  according  to  my  antecedents  of  char- 
acter or  history,  that  I  should  be  neutral,  or  indifierent  at  such  a 
season  of  revolution  and  perilous  aggressions,  in  the  denomination 
of  my  cherished  preference  and  attachment.  My  people,  too,  whose 
sympathies  were  mainly  with  me,  needed  a  pastor,  under  God,  who 
could  meet  the  occasion  and  show  himself  a  man ;  indeed  it  was 
the  desideratum  in  every  church,  as  in  the  days  of  David,  that 
oflficers  should  be  found  to  guide  them,  competent  and  valiant,  like 
'  the  children  of  Issachar,  who  were  men  that  had  understanding 
of  the  times,  to  know  what  Israel  ought  to  do ;  the  heads  of  them 
were  two  hundred,  and  all  their  brethren  were  at  their  command- 
ment.' " 

"The  result  was  feUcitous:  the  congregation  was  kept  from  con- 


362  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

fusion,  and  continually  enlarged.  On  my  retiring,  the  communi- 
cants of  this  Church  were  more  than  one  thousand ;  and  for  order, 
unity,  soundness  in  the  faith,  religious  preference  and  attachment, 
there  are  few  churches,  anywhere,  more  compact  or  exemplary  and 
distinguished ;  while  in  acts  of  munificence  and  deeds  of  Christian 
charity  to  mankind,  their  character  is  well  established,  their  useful- 
ness steady  and  principled,  and  still  increasing." 

In  May,  1846,  Dr.  Cox  was  chosen  Moderator  of  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  received  a  unanimous 
vote  of  thanks,  at  the  end  of  a  difficult  series  of  sessions  of  that 
venerable  body,  "  for  the  abihty,  impartiahty,  and  kindness"  with 
which  he  had  presided  over  them,  and  conducted  their  deliberations 
to  happy  results. 

In  August,  1846,  Dr.  Cox  attended  the  meeting  of  the  Evangeli- 
cal AlUance  in  London.  He  was  shipwTecked  on  his  return  in  the 
steamer  Great  Britain. 

On  the  last  Sabbath  of  April,  1854,  Dr.  Cox  preached  his  fare- 
well sermon  to  his  Church,  and  retired  to  Owego,  N.  Y. ;  an  affec- 
tion of  the  throat  rendering  it  impossible  for  him  to  fulfil  all 
pastoral  duties,  especially  in  Brookl3m,  as  the  sea  air  proved  an 
excitant  to  the  complaint.  His  health  in  other  respects  is  excellent, 
and  he  preaches  nearly  every  Sabbath.  His  people  were  very  gene- 
rous in  their  farewell  provision  for  their  long-tried  pastor. 

Dr.  Cox  was  married  April  7,  181*7,  to  the  daughter  of  Rev. 
Aaron  Cleaveland,  of  Connecticut.  They  have  had  six  sons  and 
nine  daughters.  Two  sons  and  four  daughters  have  been  removed 
by  death.     They  have  a  number  of  grandchildren. 

At  the  age  of  thirty-two  the  degree  of  D.  D.  was  conferred  on  the 
subject  of  our  sketch  by  Williams  College,  which  gave  occasion  for 
the  "  semi-lunar  fardels"  letter,  of  which  we  reprint  the  first  and  best 
half.  It  is  dated  November  16,  1825,  and  addressed  to  the  New 
York  Observer : 

*'  Awake,  my  St.  John !  leave  all  meaner  things 
To  low  ambition  and  the  pride  of  kings." — Essay  on  Man. 

"  Messrs.  Editors  : — In  your  paper,  I  believe,  the  paragraph  first 


"SEMI-LTJNAR   FARDELS."  363 

met  my  eye,  that  the  Trustees  of  Williams  College,  Massachusetts, 
had  taken  with  my  name  the  very  customary  liberties  of  attaching 
D.  D.  to  it.  Through  the  same  '  public  organ  of  report,'  I  ask  the 
piivilege  of  announcing  that  /  will  not  accept  of  the  appendage  I 
My  name  is  my  property,  and  my  right  to  regulate  it  in  the  premises 
will  not  be  questioned. 

"  I  know  that  the  question  will  occur :  Why  this  tardiness  of  two 
months  ?  It  was  not  owing  to  any  change  of  sentiment  as  to  the 
perfect  worthlessness  of  the  bagatelle,  or  to  its  utter  and  cumbrous 
inutility,  or  to  the  injudicious  frequency  and  indiscriminate  com- 
monness of  its  modern  conferment.  Its  frequency  has  made  it 
'  common,'  if  not '  unclean.'  It  has  become  the  caricature  of  great- 
ness, the  senility  of  colleges,  and  the  nightmare  of  the  Church.  In 
the  promiscuous  dispersion  of  these  honors,  they  are  no  test  of  com- 
petency ;  talents  are  scarcely  a  recommendation,  ignorance  seldom  a 
protection,  juvenility  itself  no  disqualification.  For  my  own  part,  1 
have  ever  and  increasingly  viewed  the  whole  system,  especially  in 
the  pm-e  light  of  Heaven,  as  a  fabric  of  theological  foppery  and 
dotage  and  disparagement,  that  does  real  harm,  but  no  imaginable 
good ;  unless  it  be  good  to  help  pride,  envy,  and  worldly  magnifi- 
cence into  the  places  of  consecrated  aflSnity  and  hallowed  relation. 
It  seems  '  a  spot  upon  a  vestal's  robe,  the  worse  for  what  it  stains.' 
It  ought  to  be  put  down,  because  it  is  too  wretched  to  grace  eleva- 
tion, and  too  light  to  fall  by  its  own  weight.  Down  it  must  go,  if 
the  Church  will  but  look  at  it,  for  it  cannot  bear  inspection.  Like 
other  'tares,'  it  grows  while  'men  sleep.'  It  is  high  time — the 
SPIRIT  OP  THE  AGE  DEMANDS  IT — that  this  mania  of  graduating 
should  itself  be  gTaduated,  and  that  without  favor,  in  the  enlight- 
ened estimation  of  the  public.  Itaque  illud  Cassianum,  cui  bono 
FUERiT,  in  his  personis  valeat.  The  cui  bono  question,  in  reference 
to  these  academico-theological  degrees,  and  for  the  best  possible 
reason,  has  never  been  answered.  It  is  an  afi'air  that  belongs  to 
another  category ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  good^  but  only  with — 
honor.  My  tardiness,  therefore,  has  not  arisen  from  any  hesitation 
as  to  the  proper  ponderosity  of  D.  D.  Feathers  are  soon  weighed ; 
and  some  of  superb  hues,  while  they  glitter  in  the  sun,  are  remarka- 


S64:  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

ble  for  levity  and  evanescence  when  they  come  in  contact  with  the 
wind  (Job  xxi.  18).  But  the  difficulty  of  my  predicament  is  in  the 
delicacy  of  its  relations.  I  cannot  disenthrall  myself  without  an 
invasion — seeming  or  real — of  the  prerogatives  of  the  order.  Your 
name  must  wear  the  semi-lunar  fardels  throuc-h  life.  Your  memory 
will  travel  to  your  childi'en's  children,  perhaps  to  the  fourth  genera- 
tion, under  stride  and  pressure  of  the  monstrous  incubus.  Some 
stragglers  of  a  remoter  posterity,  that  may  never  hear  any  thing 
about  you,  other  than  that  Dr.  Somebody  was  one  of  their  ancestors, 
may  be  able  to  infer,  from  such  premises,  only  that  he  was  a  clergy- 
man who  owned  and  probably  loved  titles.  I  would  rather  that  my 
posterity,  as  long  as  I  am  remembered  at  all,  should  know  that  I 
was  a  minister  and  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  If  the  angel  of  truth 
may  be  commissioned  to  write  this  on  my  tombstone,  I  should  ask 
no  other  recognition  in  the  present  world.  The  condition  of  a 
clergyman  unexpectedly  doctorated,  is  in  that  respect  so  peculiarly 
trying,  that  sympathy  can  be  expected  only  from  experience.  I 
never  compassionated  such  a  dilemma,  nor  entertained  one  brotherly 
idea  of  its  severity,  till  I  was  myself  a  proper  object  of  compassion. 
Several  discreet  and  excellent  friends  of  the  laity  ad\ised  me  to  the 
course  of  taciturnity.  But  I  have  ever  found,  when  reflection  has 
risen  above  mere  impressions,  that  in  his  own  case  a  man  must  at 
last  be  his  own  counsellor. 

'  *  One  self-approving  hour,  whole  years  outweighs 
Of  stupid  starers,  and  of  loud  huzzas  ; 
And  more  true  joy  the  Christian  '  exiled  feels,' 
Than  monarchs  *  with  their  senates  at  their  heels !'  " 

Dr.  Cox  states  his  leading  ideas  of  faith  and  preaching  in  the  fol- 
lowing words : 

"  I  consider  the  Gospel,  as  revealed  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  as  a 
finished  and  glorious  revelation  of  God  to  men ;  as  in  system  a  grand 
and  harmonious  unit,  never  to  be  altered,  sophisticated,  or  modified, 
by  human  wisdom  or  authority ;  as  a  glorious  deposit  made  with 
the  Church  for  our  \igilant  conservation,  our  universal  propagation, 
our  personal  conformity,  our  spiritual  obedience ;  and  so  for  our  sal- 


IDEAS    OF   FAITH    AND   PREACHING.  3^5 

vation  and  that  of  our  precious  offspring.     Hence  I  have  aimed  to 
defend  it,  impartially  and  courageously,  against  all  modifiers,  all  cor- 
rupters, all  counterfeiters;  and  in  doing  this,  systematically  and  ha- 
bitually, it  may  not  seem  strange  if  sometimes  I  should  have  been 
misunderstood  or  maligned.     To  refute  error  and  reject  all  substi- 
tutes for  truth,  is  my  necessary  duty ;  and  I  distinguish,  if  others  do 
not,  between  personality  and  spite  on  the  one  hand,  and  refuting 
error  in  honor  of  truth  on  the  other.     Can  we  not  love  men  without 
loviug  their  errors  ?     May  we  not  refute  error,  without  transcending 
the  legitimate  boundaries  of  the  commission,  as  ministers  of  Christ? 
My  preaching  has  been  marked,  and  sometimes  censured,  too,  for  my 
uncompromising  and  all-pervading  Protestantism.    If  my  arguments 
could  be  refuted  as  easily  as  hated,  it  is  possible  that  they  would 
only  have  been  either  despised  for  their  levity,  or  broken  and  dis- 
persed for  want  of  structural  solidity.      Neither  of  these   courses 
has  been  found  by  opponents  as  easy  or  as  eligible  as  their  own— 
which  is  the  more  vulgar  one !    It  may  be  far  easier  for  some  casuists 
to  erect  their  own  like  or  disHke  into  a  criterion,  than  to  meet  argu- 
ment with  superior  evidence,  and  to  break  a  proposition  by  the  fair 
onset  of  honest  demonstration.     The  Bible  is  my  text-book,  creed, 
and  religion.     It  is  the  grand  thesaurus  of  inspired  wisdom ;  and 
nothing  is  true  or  salutary  that  supersedes,  or  disparages,  or  contra- 
dicts it.     It  is  the  only  inspired  classic  in  the  world  ;  for  antiquity, 
unrivalled;   as  for  various  other   excellences,  entkely   paramount, 
pre-eminent,  supreme. 

"  If  in  all  this  view  of  the  great  matter  I  am  at  all  in  error,  I  err 
only  with  the  greatest  men,  the  most  learned  chieftains,  the  most 
illustrious  leaders  of  the  Church  since  the  fathers  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, or  since  the  times  of  primitive  antiquity,  including  the  minis- 
trations of  the  apostles  themselves.  What  God  says  is  truth,  with 
heaven  and  earth,  time  and  eternity  subordinate ;  and  all  creation 
bound  to  do  it  homage,  oral  or  written  ;  always  incomparable,  always 
the  same.  It  is  not,  therefore,  what  says  Paul,  or  Peter,  or  John, 
but  what  God  says  by  any  one  of  them,  that  commands  my  devout 
conformity." 
From  the  book  entitled  "Interviews,  Memorable  and  Useful,  from 


366  SAMUEL    IIAXSON    COX. 

Diary  and  Memory  reproduced,"  published  by  the  Harpers,  we  make 
the  following  extract,  which  is  the  close  of  an  interv-iew  with  two 
Monnon  apostles,  who  introduced  themselves  with  smooth  words, 
seeking  to  make  a  convert  of  the  divine. 

Dr.  Cox  says,  "  Pray,  be  quite  calm.  I  can  refute  all  that  instantly 
on  the  authority  of  two  apostles.  Instead  of  liar,  hypocrite,  repro- 
bate, I  am,  you  remember,  *  Brother  Cox,  a  man  of  God,  a  friend  of 
truth,  a  lover  of  righteousness,  and  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel.'  This 
is  a  great  honor — quite  a  high  and  a  memorable  endorsement.  It 
is,  at  least,  the  exalted  character  I  had  a  few  hours  since.  If  I  have 
it  not  yet,  but  have  grown  so  bad  all  at  once,  as  you  now  denounce 
me,  it  must  be  because  I  have  been  some  time  in  your  company. 
The  ancients  say — 

Nemo  repente  turpissimus. 
That  is,  no  man  can  get  astray 
From  rectitude's  habitual  way- 
All  in  one  moment,  hour,  or  day. 

"  But  your  recorded  encomium,  gentlemen,  I  shall  remember,  as 
I  pray  you  not  to  forget  it.  Think  what  apostolic  authority  !  what 
lich  commendation !  what  a  glorious  epitaph  !  Such  honor  never 
happened  to  me  before.  Few  things  in  this  world  equal  it.  Some 
of  your  initiated  disciples,  real  Latter-day  Saints,  might  be  lifted  up 
with  it  above  measure^  might  be  spiritually  proud — though  I  shall 
endeavor  to  keep  some  humility  for  all.  It  seems  to  me,  gentlemen, 
that  canonization  itself  from  the  Pope  of  Rome — yes,  canonization 
itself,  is  inferior — not  even  this  incomjDrehensible  honor,  with  the 
entail  of  purgatory  as  a  rare  mercy  and  a  pontiff's  privilege,  for 
about  two  thousand  years  only,  can  surpass,  in  my  estimation,  the 
apostolic  honors  you — 

"  \st  Apostle.  Sir,  I  have  no  respect  or  care  for  you. 

"  2c?  Ajjostle.  Yes,  sir ;  hypocrite  hardened — 

"-Dr.  Cox,  Silence,  gentlemen.  You  are  now  going  rather  too 
far.  There  seems  no  immediate  prospect  of  my  becoming  a  Latter- 
day  saint,  you  perceive.  It  is  the  Lord's  day,  and  I  wish  not  to 
break  it.     I  have  read  of  the  like  before.     You  are  just  such  apostles 


TRIALS   IN   HIS    LIFE.  867 

proved  as  are  described  in  Rev.  ii.  2,  and  in  2  Cor.  xi.  12-15.  Go, 
read  and  ponder  your  character  and  your  doom.  You  are  base  and 
horrible  impostors.  It  is  very  plain  who  sent  you,  and  bow  equally 
deceived  and  criminal  you  are  in  your  inspired  assurance ;  that  I 
was  to  be  your  convert  and  your  champion,  and  as  such  promoted 
in  your  kingdom,  and  among  your  kind  of  saints.  I  have  done  I 
You  need  make  no  reply.  Now,  I  have  only  two  more  things  to 
say ;  the  first,  this  is  my  study ;  the  second,  there  is  the  door ;  onake 
rectilinears  in  quick  time^  and  leave  the  premises  immediately.  I 
am  not  your  brother  or  your  dupe.*' 


TRIALS   IN  THE   LIFE   OF  DR.   COX. 

We  have  thus  been  enabled,  by  collections  from  various  sources, 
to  present  a  brief  history  of  the  life  of  Dr.  Cox,  which  is  almost  au- 
tobiographical. His  experience  has  been  one  of  hearty  work,  of  re- 
ciprocal affections,  and,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  additions  to  the 
Church,  of  remarkable  fruits.  It  has  also  been  one  of  an  unusual 
number  of  emergencies.  The  beginning  of  his  religious  life  was 
a  tiying  experience,  in  the  separation  from  the  faith  of  his  fathers 
and  the  sundering  from  his  mother  and  his  friends. 

The  beginning  of  his  professional  life  was  a  trjdng  experience,  as 
his  orthodoxy  was  questioned  by  some  of  the  Presbytery  of  Philadel- 
phia, before  which  he  had  presented  himself  for  examination  and 
his  recognition  as  a  minister  bitterly  opposed.  He  seemed  at  one 
time  on  the  point  of  being  left  a  discarded  object  of  his  early  connec- 
tion and  a  rejected  outcast  of  the  new. 

The  beginning  of  his  New  York  life  was  a  trying  experience,  which 
is  described  in  his  own  words.  And  the  opening  of  his  Brooklyn 
life,  which  he  also  portrays,  partook  of  the  same  character.  In  ad- 
dition, he  at  one  time  suffered  severely  as  a  champion  of  the  anti- 
slavery  cause,  which  experience  deserves  more  than  a  mere  reference. 

On  the  first  day  of  October,  1833,  there  appeared  throughout  the 
city  of  New  York  postbills  with  the  following  call : 

"  The  Friends  of  the  immediate  Abolition  of  Slavery  in  the  United 


368  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

States  are  requested  to  meet  at  Clinton  Hall,  on  Wednesday  even- 
ing, 2d  October,  at  half-past  seven  o'clock,  to  form  a  New  York  City 
Anti-slavery  Society. 

"  Committee  :  Joshua  Leavitt,  John  Rankin,  William  Goodell,  Wil- 
liam Green,  Jr.,  Lewis  Tappan." 

The  signers  (it  is  just  to  allow,  in  accordance  with  their  own 
pubhc  asseverations,  and  the  circumstances  of  the  case)  did  not  an- 
ticipate exciting  disturbance  or  arousing  opposition.  But  to  their 
surprise,  the  newspapers  took  the  matter  up,  denounced  the  move- 
ment and  its  originators,  stirred  up  the  people  by  inflammatory  ap- 
peals, and  declared  that  the  monster  of  Anti-slavery  must  be  either 
destroyed  in  the  womb,  or  strangled  on  its  first  appearance.  Such 
was  the  excitement  and  consequent  dread  of  violence,  that  the 
Tnistees  of  Clinton  Hall  declined  to  fulfil  their  engagement  to  let 
the  Hall,  and  repeated  applications  for  the  use  of  other  audience- 
rooms  proved  unavailing.  In  the  mean  time  advertisements  and 
postbills  appeared  throughout  the  city,  inciting  a  rally  of  the  people 
at  CHnton  Hall  on  the  evening  of  October  2d,  to  crush  out,  at  its 
first  breath,  the  Anti-slavery  movement.    The  call  read  as  follows : 

"NOTICK 

"to  all  persons  from  the  south. 

•  "All  persons  interested  in  the  object  of  a  meeting  called  by  J. 
Leavitt,  W.  Goodell,  W.  Greene,  Jr.,  J.  Rankin,  and  L.  Tappan,  at 
CHnton  Hall,  this  evening,  at  seven  o'clock,  are  requested  to  attend 
at  the  same  hour  and  place. 

"  (Signed)  Many  Southerners. 

"  N.  B. — All  citizens  who  may  feel  disposed  to  manifest  the  true 
feehng  of  the  State  on  this  subject,  are  requested  to  attend." 

It  happened  that  one  of  the  signers  to  the  Anti-slavery  call  was 
a  trustee  of  Chatham-street  Chapel;*  and  by  his  influence  the 
lecture-room  (which  would  hold  about  three  hundred  people),  was 

♦  This  Chapel  is  described  in  the  sketch  of  Mr.  Kirk. 


ANTI-SLAVERY   KIOTS   OF    1833-4.  369 

secured  for  the  meeting,  and  word  quietly  disseminated  to  that 
effect. 

To  the  Southern  meeting  the  crowd  gathered  at  an  early  hour, 
and  in  immense  numbers,  and  soon  adjourned  to  Tammany  Hall ; 
but  "  The  Wigwam"  was  entirely  too  strait,  and  thousands  filled  the 
space  in  front. 

At  the  same  time  there  gathered  in  Chatham-street  Chapel 
(only  a  few  blocks  distant  on  a  direct  route)  a  company  of  fifty- 
three  men  (among  whom  were  some  of  the  Society  of  Friends),  and 
one  woman.  From  fear  of  disturbance,  the  iron  gates  of  the  yard 
were  locked,  and  the  doors  of  the  lecture-room  bolted.  The  chair- 
man of  the  meeting  had  hardly  been  selected,  before  the  sexton 
whispered  to  him  that  a  fierce  crowd  was  gathering  in  front  of  the 
building.  After  prayer  had  been  offered,  it  was  remarked  that  in 
view  of  the  gathering  of  a  mob,  it  would  be  advisable,  while  exer- 
cising all  due  deliberation,  to  proceed  to  business  with  becoming 
promptness  ;  and  the  motion  was  made,  seconded,  and  carried,  that 
"we  do  now  form  the  Anti-slavery  Society  of  New  York."  A 
committee  was  appointed  to  draft  a  constitution,  which  (as  is  usual 
on  such  occasions)  was  found  to  be  already  prepared  with  care. 
This  was  read,  article  by  article ;  two  amendments  proposed  and 
accepted ;  and  the  whole  adopted.  Officers  were  then  elected ;  a 
committee  appointed  to  furnish  an  account  of  the  meeting  to  the 
daily  papers;  and  adjournment  "without  day,"  moved  and  carried. 
The  meeting  occupied  thirty  minutes. 

During  this  time  the  crowd  outside  had  increased  rapidly  in  size 
and  excitement ;  the  sexton,  as  look-out,  was  reporting  progress  and 
advising  expedition ;  the  iron  gates  were  besieged  and  stormed ;  the 
meeting  inside  deemed  it  prudent  to  retire  through  the  secret  pas- 
sages of  the  old  theatre  to  the  other  street ;  and  just  as  the  last 
man  vanished,  the  mob  burst  in  through  iron,  and  bars,  and 
bolts — no,  not  the  last  man,  for  Isaac  T.  Hopper  quietly  asserted 
that  it  was  against  his  principles  thus  to  go  out  of  a  back  door 
unless  thrown  out,  and  he  alone  met  the  sweeping  tide.  With  his 
usual  success,  however,  he  sustained  no  violence,  being  "  nothing 
but  a  Quaker,"  as  the  crowd  said ;  who,  thereupon,  proceeded  to 

24 


370  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

call  a  mock  meeting,  forcing  into  the  chair  a  negro,  whom  they 
had  brought  with  them,  and  giving  him  the  name  of  Arthur  Tap- 
pan.  From  "  Arthur  Tappan"  therefore  they  demanded  a  speech, 
and  the  frightened  negi'o  was  forced  to  stand  up  and  talk.  He 
spoke  as  follows : 

"  Gemmun"  (cheers,  and  cries  of  "  Go  it,  Arthur,"  "  Stir  up  the 
nigger,"  "  That's  it,"  "  Three  cheers  for  our  side,"  &c.,  &c.) ;  "  Gem- 
mun, I'se  a  poor,  ignorant  nigger.  I  am  not,  gemmun,  I  am  not 
com-pe-tent  to  speak  before  such  an  assembliage  as  what  dis  is." 
(Cries  of  "  Go  on,  Go  on.")  *'  Well,  gemmun,  if  you  insists  that  I 
go  on,  all  I've  got  for  to  say  is  this,  that  my  Bible  tells  me  that  God 
hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men"  (cheers  and  laughter)  ; 
"  and  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  gemmun,  says  as  that  all  men 
is  created  equal,  and  possessed  of  certain  in-ail-nahle  rights,  among 
which,  gemmun,  are  life,  liberty,  and  the — "  (shouts,  cheers,  cries, 
and  immense  good-humor,  in  which  fortunate  state  of  feehng  the 
crowd  withdrew). 

Meanwhile,  the  "  Committee  on  Publication"  were  hard  at  work 
preparing  their  account  for  the  morning  journals.  Copies  were  fur- 
nished to  the  foremen  about  one  o'clock — the  efficacy  of  money  de- 
monstrated, and  the  next  morning  the  Courier  and  Enquirer  had 
two  articles — an  editorial  headed,  "  Great  Public  Meeting  ! — The 
Agitators  Defeated  ! — The  Constitution  Triumphant  !"  and  an 
article  giving  an  account  of  the  "  Formation  of  the  New  York  Anti- 
slavery  Society."  The  Journal  of  Commerce,  in  its  editorial  on  the 
matter,  used  the  following  language  :* 

"  These  '  many  Southerners'  were  probably  a  handful  of  '  Northern 
fanatics,'  who,  not  content  with  enjoying  their  own  opinions,  and  ut- 
tering them  when  and  where  they  pleased,  were  anxious  to  prevent 
others  from  enjoying  the  same  pri\nlege.  But  whether  Northern 
or  Southern,  they  have  mistaken  the  genius  of  our  institutions,  if 
they  imagine  a  cause,  be  it  ever  so  bad,  can  be  permanently  injured 
by  such  disgraceful  proceedings.  '  The  blood  of  the  martyrs,'  it  is 
said, '  is  the  seed  of  the  Church ;'  and  persecution  in  any  form,  or 
against  any  set  of  opinions,  is  very  apt  to  produce  reaction.     In  this 

*  Jour.  Com.,  Oct.  3,  1833. 


ANTI-SLAVERY    RIOTS    OF    1833-4.  371 

country  there  is  no  such  thing  as  putting  down  error  by  physical 
force,  or  any  thing  equivalent  thereto.  If  Fanny  Wright  and  Robert 
Dale  Owen,  in  their  late  mission  to  New  York,  had  met  with  this 
kind  of  opposition,  instead  of  being  permitted  to  belch  out  their  poi- 
son at  pleasure,  it  is  more  than  probable  they  would  have  found, 
both  for  themselves  and  their  doctrines,  a  permanent  lodgment 
among  us.  As  it  was,  they  soon  exhausted  their  resources,  and  be- 
took themselves  to  other  shores,  followed  by  the  pity  and  disgust  of 
almost  our  whole  population.  Let  us  not  be  understood  as  alluding 
to  this  case  for  the  sake  of  invidious  comparison,  but  only  for  the 
purpose  of  illustration.  The  immediate  Emancipationists,  though 
embracing  but  a  small  part  of  our  population,  enroll  among  their 
numbers  many  gentlemen  of  exalted  worth,  and  who,  whatever  may 
be  their  errors  on  this  subject,  will  be  remembered  and  honored  long 
after  the  tongues  of  their  traducers  shall  be  silent  in  the  grave. 

"  But  it  is  not  upon  this  ground  merely,  that  we  condemn  the 
proceedings  of  last  evening.  Though  the  individuals  referred  to 
were  men  of  the  feeblest  intellect  and  of  the  most  worthless  charac- 
ter, we  would  still  maintain  that  they  had  as  good  a  right  to  assem- 
ble and  make  speeches,  free  from  interruption  and  insult,  as  any  of 
their  opposers.  What  sort  of  toleration  is  that  which  bears  with 
those  who  agree  with  us  in  opinion  ?  Just  such  as  may  be  found  in 
Spain,  or  Turkey,  or  in  the  dominions  of  the  Czar.  The  essence  of 
toleration  is,  to  bear  with  those  who  differ  from  us ;  and  with  opin- 
ions which  we  hold  in  utter  abhorrence.  There  are  plenty  of  men 
in  this  country,  and  plenty  of  editors,  who  are  staunch  advocates  of 
toleration  on  paper,  but  the  moment  you  touch  a  subject  in  which 
they  feel  deeply,  their  liberality  has  vanished  into  smoke.  Toleration 
is  very  good  when  it  applies  to  themselves,  but  when  it  is  called  for 
in  favor  of  others,  and  when  they  are  the  persons  to  exercise  it,  that 
alters  the  case  materially.  It  is  no  longer  your  bull  that  has  killed 
one  of  my  oxen.  ***** 

"We  said  that  common  interest  required  that  public  meetings 
should  not  be  interrupted.  For  it  is  as  easy  to  interrupt  a  Coloni- 
zation meeting  as  an  Abolition  meeting.  A  very  few  persons  suf- 
fice to  accomplish  the  object.     They  have  only  to  make  more  noise 


372  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

than  the  speaker,  and  the  work  is  done.  And  what  enterprise,  good 
or  bad,  has  not  its  opposers  ?  No  one.  Let,  then,  the  principle  be 
established,  that  any  bevy  of  gentlemen  or  vagabonds  may  invade 
the  peace  of  a  meeting  the  design  of  which  they  disapprove  (or 
profess  to  disapprove,  for  the  sake  of  having  a  row)^  and  what  will 
be  the  consequence  ?  Why,  that  all  pubhc  meetings  will  be  at  the 
mercy  of  the  evil-minded.  There  is  no  line  of  distinction  which 
can  be  drawn.  We  say,  then,  that  all  parties,  on  all  subjects,  are 
interested  in  putting  down  the  disgraceful  practice. 

"  We  are  happy  to  believe  that  whoever  else  is  implicated  in  the 
transactions  of  last  evening,  the  Colonization  Society  is  not.  The 
'  Commercial  Advertiser,'  which  is  more  the  organ  of  that  Society 
than  any  other  paper  in  this  city,  foresaw  the  interruption,  and  en- 
tered its  protest  against  it. 

"  After  all,  it  appears  that  the  immediate  emancipationists  out- 
generalled  their  opposers  ;  for  while  the  latter  were  besieging  Clin- 
ton Hall,  or  wasting  wind  at  Tammany  Hall,  the  former  were 
quietly  adopting  their  Constitution  at  Chatham-street  Chapel.  They 
had  but  just  adjourned,  we  understand,  when  the  din  of  the  invading 
army,  as  it  approached  from  Tammany  Hall,  fell  upon  their  ears ; 
and  before  the  audience  was  fairly  out  of  the  Chapel,  the  flood 
poured  in  through  the  gates,  as  if  they  would  take  it  by  storm. 
But  lo !  they  were  too  late ;  the  Anti-slavery  Society  had  been 
formed,  the  Constitution  adopted,  and  the  meeting  adjourned  !  So 
they  had  nothing  to  do  but  go  home. 

'  The  King  of  France,  with  eighty  thousand  men, 
Marched  up  the  hill,  and  then  marched  down  again.'  " 

In  reply  to  this,  the  "  Courier  and  Enquirer"  levied  a  blazing 
broadside,  of  which  we  present  the  following  missile  : 

"  The  '  Journal  of  Commerce'  is  the  principal  organ  of  Fanati- 
cism and  Hypocrisy  in  this  city ;  the  advocate  of  every  measure 
calculated,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  cast  a  stigma  on  the  character 
of  our  country,  our  people,  our  wives,  our  mothers,  sisters,  and 
daught 


ers, 


"* 


Courier  and  Enquirer,  October  5,  1S33. 


'^^EW8  OF  THE  press.  373 

In  another  number,  the  "Courier  and  Enquirer"  had  the  fol- 
lowing : 

"  There  can  no  longer  be  any  doubt  of  the  objects  of  these  Fa- 
natics, nor  of  the  tendency  of  their  proceedings ;  and  it  becomes  the 
duty  of  every  good  citizen  to  frown  upon  them,  as  dangerous  to  the 
harmony  of  the  country,  and  hazardous  to  the  property  and  lives  of 
our  Southern  brethren. 

"  What,  then,  is  to  be  done  ?  Are  we  tamely  to  look  on,  and  see 
this  most  dangerous  species  of  fanaticism  extending  itself  through 
society,  until  at  length  it  acquires  a  foothold  among  us  sufficient  to 
induce  those  partaking  of  it  to  array  themselves  openly,  as  they  now 
are  secretly,  against  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  ?  Or 
shall  we,  by  promptly  and  fearlessly  crushing  this  many-headed 
Hydra  in  the  bud,  expose  the  weakness,  as  well  as  the  folly, 
madness,  and  mischief  of  these  bold  and  dangerous  men?  We 
confess  this  latter  course  appears  to  us  the  most  proper,  and, 
under  all  the  circumstances,  the  only  one  which  can  with  safety  be 
pursued." 

After  this,   matters  progressed  without    outbreak    for    several 
months  ;  the  Anti-slavery  Society  gaining  more  and  more  strength, 
and  the  papers  keeping  the  public  mind  more  and  more  exasperated. 
On  Friday,  4th  of  July,  1834,  the  celebration  of  the  Society  at 
Chatham-street  Chapel  was  broken  up  by  the  noise  of  a  band  of 
disturbers.     That  evening  the  colored  people  were  to  have  heard  an 
oration  from  one  of  their  number,  as  their  observance  of  the  day ; 
but  this  gathering  was  postponed  till  Monday. 
^  During  the  summer,  it  happened  that  the  New  York  Musical  So- 
ciety had  rented  the  Chapel  for  Monday  evenings,  and  on  appHca- 
tion  to  the  trustees  for  its  use  by  the  colored  people,  they  were 
referred  to  the  directors  of  the  Musical  Society,  who  very  readily 
consented,  for  a  due  consideration,  and  appointed  their  own  meeting 
in  the  lecture-room,  as  the  season  of  the  year  had  reduced  their 
gatherings  to  small  dimensions.     But  unfortunately,  the  President 
of  the  Society  was  unaware  of  the  arrangement,  and  entering  the 
main  room  on  Monday  evening,  was  unexpectedly  confronted  by 
a  crowded  parquette  of  shining  negroes,  listening  approvingly  to  an 


3Ttl:  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

orator  of  their  own  color.  His  antipathies  were  so  outraged  by 
the  contrast  to  the  scene  familiar  to  his  eye  on  Monday  evenings^ 
that  after  making  some  distm'bance  on  his  own  account,  he  collected 
a  band  of  about  fifteen  men,  who,  entering  the  building,  endeavored 
to  drag  the  colored  speaker  and  his  friends  from  the  stage.  But 
the  negroes  being  rather  stalwart  and  plucky,  rallied  against  the 
intruders,  and  summarily  pitched  them  out  of  windows  and  doors. 
This,  of  course,  created  a  great  excitement  in  the  city,  which  was 
fanned  into  fury  by  the  charge  that  the  Musical  Society  had  been 
defrauded  of  their  regular  meeting  by  the  Trustees  of  the  Chapel, 
for  the  sake  of  accommodating  the  colored  people. 

At  this  time  there  resided  in  the  city  a  colored  clergyman,  a 
member  of  the  First  Presbjrtery  of  New  York,  born  in  Virginia, 
nearly  white,  w^ell  educated,  and  the  ow^ner  of  considerable  property, 
by  the  name  of  S.  E.  Cornish.  One  Sabbath,  on  going  to  heai- 
Dr.  Cox  preach,  he  was  invited  to  take  a  seat  with  one  of  the  mem- 
bers in  the  body  of  the  church.  This  circumstance  was  regarded  as 
an  insult  by  other  prominent  members,  who  held  a  meeting  after 
service,  and  expressed  their  indignation.  Dr.  Cox  was  a  brother 
minister  and  personal  friend  of  the  obnoxious  person,  and  moreover, 
as  all  know,  a  man  of  generous  impulses  and  high  sense  of  justice. 
It  was  inevitable  that  he  should  take  sides  with  the  hospitable  mem- 
ber ;  and  thereupon  he  preached,  on  a  succeeding  evening,  a  sermon 
on  the  division  of  mankind  into  the  five  races,  for  the  pui-pose  of  dis- 
pelling race- antipathies  by  the  application  of  the  Gospel  idea  of  the 
brotherhood  of  man,  and  illustrated  the  folly  of  judging  men  according 
to  color,  by  saying,  among  other  things,  that  the  Abyssinians  made 
their  devil  a  white  man ;  that  Christ  himself  was  not  of  our  com- 
plexion ;  that  He  w^as  of  the  dark  Syrian  hue,  probably  darker  than 
his  brother  Cornish,  and  if  treated  like  him,  would  be  turned  out  of 
the  church.  Thereupon  the  "  Courier  and  Enquirer"  stated,  with 
fierce  comments,  that  Dr.  Cox  had  said  in  his  pulpit,  that  "  the  Sa- 
viour of  mankind  was  a  negro."  It  needed  only  one  more  vigorous 
rub  to  evolve  suflBcient  electricity  to  fire  the  populace  of  the  city. 
The  saying  was  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  The  excitement  was 
intense.     A  clergyman  now  in  Europe  told  us,  as  illustrative,  that  he 


ANTI-SLAVERY   KIOTS   OF   1833^.  375 

heard  a  merchant  at  the  time,  in  speaking  of  Dr.  Cox,  with  clinched 
fist,  say,  "  He's  against  slavery,  and  the  South,  and  the  Union ! 
And  would  you  believe  it  ?  he  called  my  Saviour  a  nigger  !  G — d 
d — n  him !"  We  hope  to  be  pardoned  these  mystic  letters,  as 
nothing  so  well  illustrates  the  queer  mixture  of  religion,  profanity, 
patriotism,  and  bigotry,  which  made  up  the  controUing  persecution 
of  the  time. 

It  did  not  take  many  days  to  bring  matters  to  a  head,  especially 
as  men  from  the  South  stopping  at  the  hotels,  and  most  of  the 
editors  vied  with  one  another  in  fanning  the  excitement  of  the 
populace. 

On  Tuesday  evening,  July  8th,  a  debating  society  at  Clinton  Hall, 
which  was  discussing  the  slavery  question,  was  broken  up  by  a  mob. 
On  Wednesday  afternoon,  as  Lewis  Tappan  was  sitting  in  his  store 
in  Pearl-street,  a  colored  waiter  from  the  "  City  Hotel"  touched  him 
on  the  shoulder,  and  said  in  a  hurried  under  tone :  "  Mr.  Tappan, 
your  house  will  be  mobbed  to-night."  "  How  do  you  know  V  "  I 
hear  the  gentlemen  talk  so  at  dinner,"  and  the  unknown  negro  was 
gone.  Before  long  some  slight  corroborating  evidence  came  to  Mr. 
Tappan,  so  that  he  left  his  store  an  hour  earlier  than  usual,  engaged 
a  carriage,  and  pleasantly  proposed  to  his  wife  and  children  to  take  a 
sunset  ride,  to  which  all  happily  acceded.  The  carriage  went  up 
Bowery,  and  on  at  last  to  Harlem,  where  supper  was  ordered  by  the 
indulgent  husband.  Then  he  told  his  wife  of  his  fears,  and  the 
night  was  spent  at  the  hotel.  The  next  morning  the  first  paper 
opened  contained  in  staring  capitals, "  Great  Riot — Lewis  Tappan's 
House  Sacked."     The  thing  was  done. 

We  have  not  space  to  describe  the  particulars  of  the  riot.  It  was 
like  all  riots,  which  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated. 

It  continued  through  Wednesday,  Thursday,  and  Friday  nights, 
increasing  in  intensity  with  its  progress.  On  Wednesday  night,  be- 
sides Mr.  Tappan's  house,  Chatham-street  Chapel  was  mobbed,  and 
also  Bowery  Theatre,  because  of  an  English  actor,  by  the  name  of 
Farren,  who  had  said  somewhat  offensive  to  American  nationality. 
On  Thursday  night  Dr.  Cox's  house  and  church  were  mobbed,  and 
"  Zion  Church,"  occupied  by  a  colored  congregation.     On  Friday 


376  SAMUEL   HANSON    COX. 

night  Dr.  Cox's  Church  was  "  finished,"  his  house  saved  only  by  a 
strono-  military  force,  who  barricaded  the  street ;  the  Church  of  Rev. 
Mr.  Ludlow*  sacked,  and  the  windows  and  doors  of  his  house  de- 
molished ;  St.  Philip's  Church  (colored  Episcopal),  almost  entirely 
destroyed,  including  a  fine  organ,  and  the  furniture,  which  were 
brought  out  and  burnt ;  the  African  Baptist  Church  sacked ;  the 
African  Methodist  Church  totally  demolished  ;  and  dwelling-houses 
torn  dovra  or  emptied,  which  accommodated  nearly  fifty  colored 
famihes. 

On  Saturday  night  it  was  planned  to  destroy  all  the  Free  Presby- 
terian churches,  the  ofiBces  of  the  obnoxious  papers,  and  the  houses 
of  ministers  and  editors ;  for  it  should  be  understood  that  hatred  of 
the  anti-slavery  party  was  not  the  only  propulsion  of  the  mob.  It 
included  hatred  of  Christianity,  of  temperance,  and  of  all  moral  re- 
forms. The  Free  Church  Presbyterian  system  was  making  itself  too 
manifestly  felt  by  its  aggressive  movements,  and  it  must  be  over- 
thrown by  violence.  But  by  this  time  magistrates  and  property 
holders,  of  whatever  sentiments,  had  become  thoroughly  alarmed, 
troops  were  ordered  out  in  large  numbers,  and  efficient  measures 
taken  to  preserve  the  peace  of  the  city,  which  proved  successful. 

In  Mr.  Tappan's  house,  adjoining  the  Friends'  meeting-house  in 
Rose-street,  mirrors  were  broken  ;  much  of  the  furniture  piled  in  the 
street  and  partially  burned ;  parlors,  bedrooms,  and  closets  desolated ; 
indeed,  every  room  in  the  house,  except  one  small  apartment,  where 
Mr.  Tappan  kept  his  anti-slavery  documents,  papers,  and  books,  which 
was  left  unmolested.  Mr.  Tappan  sent  his  family  into  the  country, 
and  slept  at  his  store.  And  there  stood  his  house,  for  weeks  unre- 
paired, visited  by  tens  of  thousands,  preaching  its  silent  sermon.  Dr. 
Cox's  house  suffered  less  than  Mr.  Tappan's.  His  windows  were 
broken,  and  his  parlor  strewn  with  stones,  but  his  family  escaped 
uninjured,  and  he  himself  passed  out  of  his  front  door  through  the 
crowd  without  molestation,  receiving  only  a  sprinkling  of  dirt  and 
insulting  language.  Several  of  his  friends  had  mingled  in  the  mob, 
and  by  some  ingenuity  restrained  them.     Dr.  Cox  and  his  family 

*  Now  Dr.  Ludlow  of  Poughkeepeio. 


CHARACTERISTICS.  37T 

soon  went  out  of  tlie  city,  and  removed  before  long  to  Auburn,  in 
accordance  with  the  advice  of  friends. 

But  time  brings  strange  changes.  It  is  just  that  the  present  po- 
sition of  the  chief  actors  in  those  scenes  be  noted.  Dr.  Cox  has 
ceased  to  be  an  "  agitator,"  and  since  1850  has  been  a  staunch  de- 
fender of  the  "compromise  measures,"  and  is  now  a  Vice-presi- 
dent of  the  "  Southern  Aid  Society."  Lewis  Tappan  and  William 
Goodell  have  separated  from  the  Amejican  Anti-slavery  Society,  and 
are  now  prominent  supporters  of  the  "  American  Abolition  Society," 
which  seeks  the  end  of  slavery  through  the  pohtical  institutions  of 
the  country,  as  well  as  by  moral  means ;  while  the  Anti-slavery  So- 
ciety is  consigned  to  Garrison,  who  would  make  "  the  exodus  of  the 
slave,  over  the  ruins  of  the  American  Church  and  of  the  American 
Constitution."  The  Journal  of  Commerce  has  cleared  its  skirts  of 
all  taint  of  "  Fanaticism,"  condemns  all  "slavery  agitation,"  and  saves 
the  Union.  The  Courier  and  Enquirer  supports  the  Republican 
party,  which  enlists  most  of  the  anti-slavery  sentiment  of  the  North ; 
while  Joshua  Leavitt  has  clung  to  his  position  of  1833  with  such 
immovable  tenacity,  that  on-rolling  public  sentiment,  at  present  so 
far  from  proclaiming  him  a  "fanatic,"  is  inclined  to  esteem  him 
"  the  Conservative"  among  a  corps  of  editors  who  control  a  leading 
religious  newspaper. 


CHARACTERISTICS. 

We  close  with  a  brief  criticism.  Dr.  Cox  is  a  man  of  warm  sen- 
sibilities, of  ardent  zeal,  and  great  industry ;  and  he  is  also  a  man  of 
marked  peculiarities  of  style  and  manner.  He  is  one  of  those  speakers 
whom  to  hear  once  is  to  know  thoroughly.  He  displays  himself 
frankly  and  unreservedly.  The  characteristics  are  so  striking  that 
one  sees  them  at  a  glance,  and  would  recognize  them,  robed  and 
turbaned,  in  the  desert  of  Sahara.  His  manner  is  earnest  and  forci- 
ble, indeed  somewhat  impetuous.  He  is  faithful  in  probing  the  con- 
science and  affecting  in  his  appeals.  He  manifests  deep  soHcitude 
in  his  preaching ;  and  there  is  a  sincerity  and  ardor  in  his  whole 


378  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

manner  which  touches  the  heart.  He  is  vigorous  in  thought,  and 
forcible  in  its  presentation  ;  and  he  always  commands  attention,  not 
less  by  fervor  of  deHvery  than  by  exuberance  of  language  and  pecu- 
liar redundancy  of  remarkable  words.  He  surpasses  all  in  the  out- 
pouring of  sentences,  and  in  the  abundance  of  quotations.  His 
memory  is  wonderful,  and  he  uses  it  without  reserve.  His  quotations, 
though  so  profuse,  are  accurate,  and  remarkably  appropriate ;  but  he 
lacks  logical  order,  or  system  of  any  kind;  digressing,  episoding, 
and  returning  upon  his  steps  without  law  or  method.  As  an  exam- 
ple of  his  numerous  episodes,  we  will  allude  to  a  sermon  on  the  mir- 
acle of  Christ,  by  which  a  woman  was  healed  '*  who  had  an  issue  of 
blood  twelve  years,  and  had  suffered  many  things  of  many  phy- 
sicians." In  speaking  of  this  last  fact,  he  pressed  the  point  that  the 
woman  "  rather  grew  w^orse."  Checking  himself,  however,  he  insisted 
that  he  meant  no  disrespect  to  the  "  Faculty,"  among  whom  he  was 
happy  to  number  "  valued,  and  esteemed,  and  intelligent,  and  scientific 
friends ;"  and  so  proceeding,  delivered  a  long  and  glowing  eulogy 
of  the  medical  profession ;  describing  the  eminence  it  had  attained, 
and  the  obligations  of  men  and  science  to  its  astounding  discoveries. 
When  speaking  of  the  woman's  perseverance  in  touching  the  gar- 
ments of  Christ,  he  said,  "  as  an  old  Latin  author  magnificently  ob- 
serves, ^  aut  mam  inveniam  aut  facianiy  or  as  the  proverb  expresses 
and  eclaircises  it — '  Where  there's  a  will,  there's  a  way.'  " 

He  himself  says  of  his  style,  in  the  introduction  to  his  principal 
book — 

"  With  respect  to  the  style  of  this  treatise,  it  is,  perhaps,  full  of 
pecuharities,  and  those  who  know  the  writer  will  find  them  all  his 
own.  He  is  conscious  also  of  their  blemishes  and  faults.  All  he 
asks  of  the  critic  is  to  consider  that  the  profession,  on  the  score  ot 
taste,  is  quite  as  humble  as  the  performance.  A  man  should  be 
himself  at  all  times :  peculiarities,  eccentricities,  and  even  inaccura- 
cies, are  more  tolerable  than  mimiciy,  aflfectation,  and  false  con- 
sequence." 

Dr.  Cox  is  not  only  remarkable  for  quotation,  but  he  is  especially 
remarkable  for  quoting  Latin.  The  classics  are  ever  on  his  tongue, 
without  regard  to  audience,  time,  or  place.     He  evidently  thinks  in 


HIS   PUBLIC    LIFE.  379 

Latin,  and  such  is  the  bent  of  his  mind  that  he  uses  derivatives  and 
base  Latinisms  far  more  than  Saxon  words.  But  the  veiy  pecu- 
harities  to  be  condemned  in  a  speaker  make  him  the  hfe  of  the 
social  circle.  Here  there  is  no  need  of  rigid  logic  or  condensed  dis- 
course. With  unfailing  flow  of  words,  animated  manner,  abundant 
wit,  and  excitable  sympathies  for  one  and  all,  he  delights  his  com- 
panions by  his  illustrations,  stories,  and  luxuriant  expressions. 

We  think  Dr.  Cox  has  always  suffered,  more  or  less,  from  lack 
of  stern  discipline,  both  of  heart  and  mind.  He  seems  to  have 
missed  the  advantages  of  thorough  training,  systematic  elementary 
study,  and,  above  all,  the  moulding  influence  which  unceasingly 
radiates  from  the  great  good  man,  gently  bowing  the  strength  of 
youth  to  an  attitude  of  reverence,  humbling  the  pride  of  self-reliance, 
dispelling  the  conceit  of  boyish  success,  and  transforming  the  pre- 
sumption of  impetuous  youth  into  the  docile  spirit  of  the  devout 
learner.  For  a  long  number  of  years  he  has  been  in  public  life  ; 
not  only  in  the  public  life  which  the  pulpit  affords,  a  sphere  some- 
what walled  up  and  exclusive,  but  in  the  wider,  freer  public  hfe, 
which  belongs  to  the  speaker's  platform  and  the  publisher's  press. 
During  these  many  years  he  has  neither  been  idle,  nor  retiring,  nor 
silent.  He  has  been  an  active,  working  man,  whose  voice  is  heard, 
and  whose  presence  is  felt  wherever  he  is.  His  energy  of  character 
has  ever  urged  him  to  the  van,  while  his  natural  enthusiasm  has 
inspired  him  to  seize  the  standard  and  ring  out  the  battle-cry. 
When  the  cool  judgment  of  others  reined  them  in,  his  zeal  was 
spurring  him  on.  While  some  prefer,  in  the  retirement  of  the  study, 
quietly  to  build  up  the  life-character,  he  has  been  fashioning  his  by 
busthng  work  in  all  the  turmoil  of  stirring  life.  He  did  not  hew  the 
stones  and  fit  the  beams  for  his  temple  afar  off  in  the  solitary  moun- 
tains, "  that  neither  hammer,  nor  axe,  nor  any  tool  of  iron,  should 
be  heard  in  the  house  while  it  was  in  building,"  but  with  the  rough 
logs  and  unshapen  rocks  brought  to  his  hand,  he  has  been  hewing  and 
chiselling  and  hammering  and  rearing  on  Zion's  hill,  surrounded  by 
busy  hfe,  and  gazed  at  by  all  the  passers-by,  both  of  Jews  and  of 
Gentiles.  Hence  his  name  is  a  familiar  word  among  all  classes. 
While  the  retiring  student  is  known  only  to  the  literary  circle,  and 


380  SAMUEL    HANSON    COX. 

at  some  publishing  liouse  or  bookseller's  stall;  while  the  humble 
faithful  pastor  lives  and  dies  the  beloved  shepherd  of  his  flock,  least 
known  to  others,  most  known  to  them;  while  the  metaphysician 
moves  among  the  stars  of  the  hterary  firmament,  recognized  by  the 
multitude  only  in  some  sleepy  interval  between  days  of  work,  as 
some  wonderful  and  useless  light  in  the  mysterious  distance ;  while 
almost  every  one  has  his  favorite  circle,  Dr.  Cox  has  in  one  way  and 
another  made  himself  heard  and  seen  and  felt  throughout  all  classes. 
He  is  known  in  the  literary  world  as  the  author  of  a  large  work 
entitled,  "Quakerism  not  Christianity,"  and  of  several  small  and 
less  important  essays.  He  is  distinguished  in  the  religious  world, 
not  only  as  the  theologian  and  divine,  but  also  as  a  prime  mover  in 
the  agitation  of  1837,  followed  by  the  division  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church ;  as  a  leading  promoter  of  the  Evangelical  Alliance ;  as  a 
professor  in  a  Theological  Seminary ;  as  a  lecturer  upon  Sacred  His- 
tory ;  and,  finally,  as  a  strong  New  School  Presbyterian. 

By  his  active  participation  in  the  cause  of  Temperance,  his  zeal  in 
behalf  of  the  Colonization  Society,  the  Anti-slavery  Society,  and  the 
Compromise  measures  successively,  and  by  his  prompt  devotion  to 
other  great  movements  of  the  day,  he  has  intertwined  his  interests 
with  those  of  a  large  class  of  individuals  who  would  perhaps  be 
included  in  neither  of  the  foregoing  divisions.  Finally,  he  is  known 
and  valued  as  the  racy  conversationist,  the  choice  companion,  and 
the  faithful  friend. 

Yet,  as  Job  says,  "  great  men  are  not  always  wise ;"  and  ardent 
men  are  not  always  safe.  While  the  highest  eulogium  should  be 
paid  to  the  energy,  the  perseverance,  the  courage,  the  benevolence, 
and  the  zeal  of  Dr.  Cox,  we  often  think  of  the  advice  which  he  says 
was  once  given  him  by  a  good  Quaker  friend :  "  Samuel,  thy  mind 
is  too  active ;  if  thee  wants  peace,  I  can  tell  thee  how  to  find  it. 
Get  still,  get  still,  and  thee  shall  come  to  know  the  hidden  wisdom 
in  the  quiet  of  the  flesh.    I  tell  thee,  my  dear  young  friend,  get 

Btill." 


FRANCIS  I.  HAWKS. 


'Learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians." 


*This  eminent  pulpit  orator  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
was  born  in  North  Carolina,  at  Newbern,  June  10,  1798.  His 
grandfather  came  with  the  colonial  governor  Tryon  from  England, 
and  was  employed  as  an  architect  in  some  of  the  prominent  public 
works  of  the  State,  and  was  distinguished  by  his  liberal  opinions  in 
the  Revolution. 

He  was  graduated  at  the  University  of  North  Carolina,  and  prose- 
cuting the  study  of  the  law  in  the  office  of  the  Hon.  "William  Gas- 
ton, was  admitted  to  the  bar  at  the  age  of  twenty-one.  He  continued 
the  practice  of  the  law  for  several  years  in  his  native  State,  with  dis- 
tinguished success.  A  memorial  of  his  career  at  this  period  is  left  to 
the  public  in  his  four  volumes  of  "Reports  of  Decisions  in  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  North  Carolina,"  1820-26,  and  his  "  Digest  of  all 
the  Cases  decided  and  reported  in  North  Carolina."  In  his  twenty- 
third  year  he  was  elected  to  the  Legislature  of  his  State. 

His  youth  had  been  marked  by  its  high  tone  of  character,  and  his 
personal  qualities  and  inclinations  led  him  to  the  Church  as  his  ap- 
propriate sphere.  He  was  ordained  by  Bishop  Ravenscroft,  in  1827. 
His  eariiest  ministerial  duties  were  in  charge  of  a  congregation  in 
New  Haven.  In  1829  he  became  the  assistant  minister  of  St. 
James's  Church,  Philadelphia,  in  which  Bishop  White  was  rector. 
The  next  year  he  was  called  to  St.  Stephen's  Church  in  New  York, 

*  For  this  biography  we  are  indebted  to  "Cyclopedia  of  American  Litera- 
ture," by  Evert  A.  Duyckinck  and  George  L.  Duyckinck ;  published  by  Charles 
Scribner. 


382  FRA^-CIS    L.    IIAWK3. 

in  whicli  citv  his  reputation  for  eloquence  became  at  once  perma- 
nently established.  From  St.  Stephen's  he  passed  to  St.  Thomas's 
Church  in  1832,  and  continued  his  connection  with  the  parish  till 
his  removal  to  Mississippi  in  1844.  During  the  latter  period  of  his 
brilliant  career  at  St.  Thomas's,  he  was  relieved  from  a  portion  of  his 
city  parochial  labors  by  an  assistant,  and  devoted  himself  to  a  hberal 
plan  of  education,  which  he  had  matured  with  great  ability,  and  the 
details  of  which  were  faithfully  carried  out.  He  established  at 
Flushing,  Long  Island,  a  boarding-school,  to  which  he  gave  the 
name  of  St.  Thomas's  Hall.  The  grounds  were  prepared  and  the 
buildings  erected  by  him  ;  a  liberal  provision  was  made  for  the  in- 
struction and  personal  comforts  of  the  students.  He  introduced  order 
and  method  in  all  departments.  Substantial  comfort  and  prosperity 
pervaded  the  establishment  on  all  sides.  Unfortunately,  the  experi- 
ment fell  upon  a  period  of  great  commercial  pressure,  and  the  fruits 
of  the  hearty  zeal,  labor,  and  self-denial  of  its  projector,  were  lost  by 
its  financial  embarrassments.  The  failure  of  this  institution  was  a 
serious  loss  to  the  cause  of  education.  Its  success  would  have 
greatly  assisted  to  elevate  the  standard  of  the  frequently  misman- 
aged and  even  injurious  country  boarding-schools.  As  a  character- 
istic of  Dr.  Hawks's  habitual  consideration  for  the  needy  members 
of  his  profession,  and  of  his  own  personal  disinterestedness,  it  may  be 
mentioned  that  it  was  his  intention,  when  he  had  fairly  established 
the  institution,  to  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  appropriate  trustees,  with 
the  simple  provision  that  the  sons  of  poor  clergymen  should  receive 
from  it,  without  charge,  an  education  worthy  the  position  due  their 
parents. 

Previous  to  his  departure  for  the  Southwest,  Dr.  Hawks  had,  in 
1836,  passed  a  summer  season  in  England,  procuring,  in  accordance 
with  a  provision  of  the  General  Convention,  copies  of  important  pa- 
pers relating  to  the  early  history  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  Amer- 
ica. In  this  he  had  the  assistance  of  the  eminent  dignitaries  of  tlie 
English  Church,  and  secured  a  large  and  valuable  collection  of  MSS., 
which  have  been  since  frequently  consulted  on  important  topics  of 
the  ecclesiastical  and  civil  history  of  the  country.  While  at  Flush- 
ing, after  his  return,  he  printed  considerable  portions  of  them  in  the 


EDITORIAL   LABORS.  383 

Church  Record,  a  weekly  paper  devoted  to  the  cause  of  Christianity 
and  education,  which,  commenced  in  November,  1840,  was  con- 
tinued till  October,  1842.*  The  Record  was  conducted  by  Dr. 
Hawks,  and  besides  its  support  of  Protestant  theology  in  the  agita- 
tions of  the  day,  induced  by  the  publication  of  the  "Oxford  Tracts," 
in  which  Dr.  Hawks  maintained  the  old  American  churchmanship 
and  respect  for  the  rights  of  the  laity,  which  he  had  learnt  in  the 
schools  of  White  and  Ravenscroft,  the  journal  made  also  a  liberal 
provision  for  the  display  of  the  sound  old  English  literature,  in  a 
series  of  articles  in  which  its  wants  were  set  forth  from  Sir  Thomas 
More  to  De  Foe.  In  1837  Dr.  Hawks  established  the  New  York 
Review,  for  a  tune  continuing  its  active  editor,  and  commencing  its 
valuable  series  of  articles  on  the  leading  statesmen  of  the  country, 
with  his  papers  on  Jefferson  and  Burr.f 

While  in  the  Southwest  Dr.  Hawks  was  elected  Bishop  of  Missis- 
sippi, his  confirmation  in  which  office  was  met  by  opposition  in  the 
General  Convention,  where  charges  were  proposed  against  him  grow- 
ing out  of  the  financial  difficulties  of  the  St.  Thomas's  Hall  education 
scheme.  His  vindication  of  his  course  in  this  matter  occupied  sev- 
eral hours  at  the  Convention  at  Philadelphia,  and  is  described  by 
those  who  listened  to  it  as  a  masterly  and  eloquent  oration :  clear 
and  ample  in  statement,  powerful  and  convincing  in  the  noble  ap- 
peal of  the  motives  which  had  led  him  to  the  disastrous  enterprise. 
A  vote  of  acquittal  was  passed,  and  the  matter  referred  to  the  Diocese 
of  Mississippi,  which  expressed  its  entire  confidence.  The  bishopric 
was,  however,  not  accepted.     He  has  since  been  tendered  the  bish- 


*  Three  volumes  of  this  work  were  published  by  C.  E.  Lindon,  an  ingenious 
practical  printer,  and  since,  the  clever  editor  of  the  Flushing  Gazette :  two  in 
quarto  of  the  weekly,  and  a  third  in  a  monthly  octavo. 

t  From  the  hands  of  Dr.  Hawks  the  Review  passed  under  the  management 
of  his  associate  in  the  enterprise,  the  Eev.  Dr.  C.  S.  Henry,  the  translator  of 
Cousin,  author  of  a  History  of  Philosophy  in  Harpers'  Family  Library,  and  for 
many  years  Professor  of  Moral  and  Intellectual  Philosophy  in  the  New  York 
University.  When  Dr.  Henry  retired  from  the  Eeview,  he  was  succeeded  by 
that  most  accomplfshed  man  of  letters,  the  organizer  and  first  librarian  of  the 
Astor  Library,  Dr.  J.  G.  Cogswell,  by  whom  the  work  was  conducted  till  its 
close  in  its  tenth  volume  in  1841. 


384  FRANCIS   L.    HAWKS. 

opric  of  Rhode  Island.  In  1842  Dr.  Hawks  edited  a  volume  of  the 
Hamilton  papers  from  MSS.,  confided  to  him  by  the  venerable  wid- 
ow ;  but  the  undertaking  was  laid  aside  with  a  single  volume,  the 
work  having  been  afterwards  entered  upon  by  Hamilton's  son,  with 
the  assistance  of  Congress.*  In  1844  he  accepted  the  rectorship  of 
Christ's  Church  in  jSfew  Orleans,  a  position  which  he  held  for  five 
years ;  during  which  time  he  also  lent  his  assistance  to  the  further- 
ance of  the  organization  of  the  State  University,  of  which  he  was 
made  President.  He  returned  to  New  York  in  1849  at  the  request 
of  his  friends,  with  the  understanding  that  provision  was.  to  be  made 
for  his  St.  Thomas's  Hall  obligations ;  the  unabated  admiration  of 
his  eloquence  and  personal  qualities,  readily  secured  a  sufficient  fund 
for  this  object,  and  he  has  since  filled  the  pulpit  at  Calvary  Church. 
The  literary  publications  of  Dr.  Hawks  are  two  volumes  of  "Con- 
U'ibutions  to  the  Ecclesiastical  History  of  the  United  States,"  embra- 
cing the  States  of  Virginia  and  Maryland  ;  a  volume  of  "  The  Con- 
stitutions and  Canons  of  the  Episcopal  Church,"  with  notes ;  a 
caustic  essay  on  "  Auricular  Confession  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,"  published  in  1850;  an  octavo,  "Egypt  and  its  Monu- 
ments," in  particular  relation  to  biblical  evidence ;  a  translation  of 
Rivero  and  Tschudi's  "Antiquities  of  Peru,"  in  1853  ;  and  several 
juvenile  volumes  of  natural  history  and  American  annals,  published 
in  the  "Boy's  and  Girl's  Library"  by  the  Harpers,  with  the  title 
"  Uncle  Phihp's  Conversations."  Dr.  Hawks  is  also  the  author  of  a 
few  poems,  mostly  descriptive  of  incidents  in  his  parochial  relations, 
which  have  been  recently  printed  in  the  North  Carolina  collection  of 
poetry,  entitled  "  AVood  Notes."  It  is  understood  that  he  has  in 
preparation  a  work  on  the  "  Antiquities  of  America,"  a  subject  which 
has  long  employed  his  attention.  In  addition  to  these  literary  pur- 
suits, which  have  been  but  episodes  in  his  active  professional  career. 
Dr.  Hawks  has  delivered  several  lectures  and  addresses,  of  which  we 
may  mention  particularly  a  biographical  sketch  of  Sir  Walter  Ra- 

*  The  Official  and  other  Papers  of  the  late  Major-General  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton, compiled  chiefly  from  the  originals  in  the  possession  of  Mrs.  Hamilton. 
8vo.    Kew  York  :  Wiley  and  Tutnam,  1842. 


HIS   WRITINGS.  385 

leigh,  and  a  vindication  of  the  early  position  of  North  Carolina  in  the 
affairs  of  the  Revolution.  He  has  been  also  an  active  participant  in 
the  proceedings  of  the  New  York  Ethnological,  Historical,  and 
Geographical  Societies.  Of  the  most  important  part  of  Dr.  Hawks's 
intellectual  labors,  his  addresses  from  the  pulpit,  it  is  enough  to  say 
that  their  merits  in  argument  and  rhetoric  have  deservedly  main- 
tained his  high  position  as  an  orator,  through  a  period  and  to  an 
extent  rare  in  the  history  of  popular  eloquence.  A  manly  and  un- 
prejudiced conviction  of  Christian  truth,  a  brilliant  fancy,  illumina- 
ting ample  stores  of  reading,  and  a  practical  knowledge  of  the 
world  ;  seldom  seen  physical  powers ;  a  deep-toned  voice,  expressive 
of  sincere  feeling  and  pathos,  and  easy  and  melodious  in  all  its  utter- 
ances ;  a  warm  Southern  sensibility,  and  courageous  conduct  in  ac- 
tion, are  among  the  qualities  of  the  man,  which  justify  the  strong 
personal  influence  which  he  has  long  exercised  at  will  among  his 
contemporaries. 


CRITICISM.* 

The  pulpit  is  doubtless  the  field  in  which  oratory  exhibits  its 
highest  powers.  It  ever  deals  with  a  theme  beside  which  all  others 
sink  into  insignificance,  and  it  illustrates  the  principles  and  the  con- 
victions which  it  seeks  to  establish,  by  means  infinitely  small,  when 
compared  with  the  results  to  flow  from  its  success.  All  the  usual 
aids  of  person,  voice,  action,  composition,  and  comparison,  which  at 
the  bar,  or  in  the  forum,  contribute  so  much  to  the  power  of  the 
orator — elevating  and  adorning  the  subject — placing  upon  it  a  ficti- 
tious importance,  which  may,  and  to  an  extent  will,  disappear  in  the 
calmer  light  of  reflection,  must  by  the  preacher  be  held  in  subjec- 
tion. The  greatness  of  the  business  in  which  he  is  engaged  must 
reign  supreme,  imbuing  manner,  tone,  and  language  with  humihty. 
And  this  is  equally  a  necessity,  whether  the  feelings  or  the  reason- 
ing powers  are  appealed  to.  The  deductions  of  a  cold  and  unsensi- 
tive  logic  must  yet  be  reached  by  a  path,  and  in  a  manner,  which 

*  For  this  criticism  we  are  indebted  to  a  friend. 
25 


386  FKAXCIS    L.    HAWKS. 

never  for  a  moment  places  the  speaker  upon  a  level  with  the 
mere  debater.     Otherwise  dignity  is  imperilled. 

The  discourses  of  Dr.  Hawks  illustrate  in  a  high  degree  this 
phase  of  pulpit  oratory,  while  they  are  in  themselves  admirable  as 
specimens  of  theological  argumentation.  To  an  active  Christian 
humanity,  which  opens  to  him  all  the  spiritual  wants  of  his  fellow- 
men,  he  unites  the  enthusiastic  devotion  of  an  historical  and  scientific 
scholar.  His  study  is  undoubtedly  his  favorite  sphere.  His  pro- 
ductions are  instinct  with  the  spirit  of  a  deep  delver  in  the  mines  of 
knowledge.  And  to  a  man  with  colder  impulses,  and  less  imagina- 
tion, there  might  be  danger  of  an  absorption  of  every  other  in  the 
intellectual  element.  But,  although  each  succeeding  discourse  ac- 
cumulates ev-idences  of  new  thought  and  reflection  upon  subjects  we 
had  deemed  threadbare,  we  never  hear  one  in  which  the  broad  un- 
derstrata of  fellow-feeling  is  not  apparent.  Every  man  and  woman 
who  hears  him,  though  there  may  be  arguments  which  some  fail 
fully  to  comprehend,  becomes  sensible  of  his  relation  as  a  kind 
Christian  teacher — a  warm-hearted  sympathizer — a  man  with  and 
of  them.  His  discourses  reach  all  classes,  and  speak  intelligibly  to 
all  capacities  of  understanding. 

We  regard  Dr.  Hawks  then,  although  essentially  logical  and  argu- 
mentative in  his  general  style,  as  a  preacher  to  the  many,  and  not 
alone  to  the  few,  whom  his  great  talents  and  his  high  attainments 
have  drawn  around  him. 

As  to  details,  we  distmst  our  ability  to  convey  what  we  would 
vnsh.  to  express.  There  are  some  champions  in  the  cause  of  re- 
ligious progress,  whose  efi'orts  fill  the  heart  of  the  Christian  with  a 
newer  hope,  and  a  deeper  devotion,  while  they  awaken  a  just  pride 
in  the  invincibility  of  the  great  truths  of  om*  common  faith — men 
whose  dominion  over  the  head  and  the  heart  we  at  once  recognize, 
but  whose  power  we  also  acknowledge  ourselves  unable  to  analyze^ 
It  is  not  the  voice — many  another  has  vibrated  quite  as  harmo- 
niously upon  the  sense.  It  is  not  the  action,  for  we  have  sat  almost 
unmoved  before  those  great  orators,  whose  very  attitudes  were  full 
of  speech  and  pathos.  Neither  is  it  the  argument  and  the  expres- 
sive beauty  of  the  language  in  which  it  is  draped ;  and,  finally, 


AS   PREACHER.  387 

neither  is  it  the  illimitable  field  which  these  forces  have  united  to 
Qlustrate.  It  seems  rather  to  be  that  proportionate  contribution  of 
all  these  elements ; — none  so  predominating  as  to  furnish  a  mark  for 
applause,  none  so  obscure  as  to  remain  unfelt, — which  drives  us  to 
conviction,  and  rouses  feeling.  The  theme  is  too  elevated  for  action, 
pathos,  beauty  of  language,  or  eloquence,  merely  as  such.  And 
argument,  though  it  command  the  admiration,  and  perhaps  the  con- 
\Tiction  of  the  logical  few,  fails  to  reach  the  understanding  of  the 
feeling  many.  It  is  the  harmonious  working  of  this  combination — 
the  perfect  proportion  which  each  bears  to  the  whole  design — that 
constitutes  what  all  will  recognize  as  a  great  preacher.  We  remem- 
ber to  have  long  since  raised  Dr.  Hawks  to  this  place  in  our  estima- 
tion, and  we  now  find  it  difficult  to  say  wherein  he  does  not  reach 
the  standard. 

Purity  and  correctness  of  intonation  are  eminently  his.  He  ut- 
ters the  grand  old  Saxon  in  a  manner  which  opens  anew  its  capaci- 
ties as  a  vehicle  of  expression.  We  feel  the  simple  beauty  and 
truth  of  the  Church  Liturgy,  as  it  comes  from  his  lips  during  the 
service.  Every  word  bears  its  full  significance,  and  every  sentence 
is  majestic  with  the  dignity  of  its  high  office.  The  text  is  read  with 
clearness ;  and  with  the  modesty  of  a  learned  as  w^ell  as  Christian 
man,  he  commences  his  sennon.  The  preface  may  present  a  beau- 
tiful scene  or  a  startling  simile,  like  the  initial  chapter  of  a  book, 
to  fix  the  attention ;  and  if  so,  he  works  it  out  elaborately,  and 
gives  it  a  finish  which  a  perfect  command  of  language  alone  would 
enable  him  to  do.  But  this  is  usually  the  limit  which  he  allows  his 
imagination  to  act  in  painting  what  may  be  termed  ornament. 
With  a  full,  rotund,  and  exquisitely  modulated  voice,  enabhng 
every  listener  to  hear  distinctly — a  studied  correctness  in  pronuncia- 
tion and  emphasis  which  cannot  fail  to  be  understood — and  an  ac- 
tion which  always  aids  and  never  obstructs  his  meaning,  he  strikes 
directly  into  the  path  of  his  argument.  He  rarely  lingers  in,  and 
never  leaves  it,  to  ofier  to  such  of  his  hearers  as  are  expecting  the 
treat,  those  beautiful  figures  of  speech  which  a  vivid  fancy  is  con- 
tinually suggesting.  He  seldom,  if  ever,  allows  secular  matters, 
however  notorious  or  important,  to  obtrude  themselves  into  his  <y 


388  FRANCIS    L.    HAWKS. 

dinaiy  discourses ;  though,  upon  occasion,  he  betrays  an  intimate 
sympathy  with  all  the  political  and  social  changes  through  which 
our  country  is  passing,  and  the  citizen  and  the  patriot  rises  to  sen- 
timents almost  "Websterian  in  their  grandem*.  His  reasoning  exhib- 
its traits  of  his  education  in  another  profession,  but  it  is  plainly  clad, 
and  he  proceeds  to  deduce  his  conclusions  with  a  logical  closeness 
and  an  attention  to  detail  which  leave  no  outlet  for  escape  to  those 
who  have  admitted  his  premises  and  followed  his  argument. 

But  the  first  and  the  last,  the  «ver-present  element  which  holds 
the  attention  of  the  listener,  is  earnestness.  His  heart  is  full  of  the 
work.  It  sends  out  a  strong,  deep  river  of  feeling,  whose  force,  ir- 
resistible and  ceaseless,  almost  carries  the  foundations  of  unbelief 
itself  with  its  tide.  It  touches  his  graceful.  Burke-like  diction  with 
a  pathos  and  an  affection  which  wins  him  a  direct  way  to  the 
hearts  of  those  who  cannot  comprehend,  and  do  not  need  argu- 
ment. 

We  have  said  nothing  of  his  extempore  style.  It  does  not  difier; 
or  if  it  does,  it  gains  in  graceful  elegance  of  expression,  and  in  a 
freer  play  of  the  imagination,  though  it  may  lose  in  the  other  attri- 
butes which  rendei"  his  written  productions  models  in  theological 
literature. 

Much  more  should  be  said  of  one  who  for  so  many  years  has  oc- 
cupied such  a  prominent  place  in  the  worid  of  letters,  as  well  as  in 
the  company  of  divines.    Less  we  could  not  say. 


GEORGE  W.  BETHUNE. 


"  Let  your  moderation  be  known  unto  all  men." 


The  father  of  Dr.  Bethune,  an  eminent  philanthropist  and  Chris- 
tian, was  born  at  Dingwall,  Rosshire,  Scotland,  in  llll.  His  an- 
cestors were  Huguenots.  In  early  life  he  resided  at  Tobago,  where 
his  only  brother  was  a  physician.  At  the  command  of  his  pious 
mother,  he  left  the  irreligious  island,  and  removed  to  the  United 
States  in  1*792,  and  settled  in  New  York  as  a  merchant.  He  was 
largely  engaged  in  importing.  He  joined  the  church  of  Dr.  Mason, 
and  became  one  of  its  elders  in  1802.  He  died  September  18th, 
1824.  He  was  a  man  wise  in  counsel,  successful  in  business,  an 
eminent  Christian  and  philanthropist,  and  a  prominent  citizen.  Be- 
fore a  Tract  Society  was  formed  in  this  country,  Mr.  Bethune  printed 
ten  thousand  tracts  at  his  own  expense,  and  distributed  many  of 
them  himself;  a  circumstance  which  has  led  Dr.  Bethune  pleasantly 
to  remark,  that  he  was  the  son  of  the  first  American  Tract  Society. 
He  also  imported  Bibles  for  distribution.  From  1803  to  1816,  he 
was  at  the  sole  expense  of  one  or  more  Sunday-schools.  The  tenth 
of  his  gains  he  devoted  to  the  service  of  his  heavenly  Master.  In  his 
last  sickness  he  said,  "  I  wish  my  friends  to  help  me  through  the 
valley  by  reading  to  me  the  word  of  God.  I  have  not  read  much 
lately  but  the  Bible — the  Bible  !  the  Bible  !  I  want  nothing  but 
the  Bible.  Oh,  the  light  that  has  shined  into  my  soul  through  the 
Bible !" 

Dr.  Bethune's  maternal  grandmother  was  the  distinguished  Chris- 
tian, Isabella  Graham.  This  pious,  charitable,  and  accomplished 
woman  was  born  in  Scotland,  in  1742.     In  1765  she  was  married 


390  GEORGE    W.   BETHUNE. 

tx)  Dr.  Graham,  and  accompanied  him  to  Canada,  -where  his  regi- 
ment was  stationed.  He  was  afterwards  ordered  to  Antigua,  where 
he  died,  in  1774.  Mi-s.  Graham  then  returned  to  Scotland,  and  sup- 
ported her  father  and  four  childi'en  by  teaching  a  school  for  young 
ladies.  In  1789  she  came  to  America,  where  she  again  conducted 
a  seminary  with  as  much  success  as  before,  and  connected  herself 
with  Dr.  Mason's  church.  Though  distinguished  for  personal  en- 
dowments, she  was  peculiarly  eminent  as  a  public  benefactor.  In 
the  year  1799,  a  society  was  formed  for  the  relief  of  poor  widows 
with  small  children,  the  original  plan  of  which  was  formed  at  her 
house,  and  she  was  the  principal  manager.  This  society  opened  a 
school  for  the  education  of  its  orphans,  which  plan  was  developed 
into  schools  for  poor  children  in  various  parts  of  the  city,  in  the  care 
of  which  some  of  Mrs.  Graham's  former  pupils  assisted,  and  also 
those  of  the  widows  who  were  qualified.  She  abo  estabhshed  two 
Sunday-schools,  one  of  which  she  conducted  herself,  and  placed  the 
other  under  the  care  of  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Bethune.  Mrs.  Graham 
was  chiefly  instrumental  in  organizing  the  first  Orphan  Asylum,  and 
in  1811  she  was  chosen  the  first  directress  of  a  Magdalen  Asylum, 
which  office  she  held  until  her  death.  In  the  spring  of  1814,  she 
devoted  her  energies  to  establishing  a  society  for  the  promotion 
of  industry  among  the  poor.  She  died  in  the  triumphs  of  faith,  on 
the  24th  of  July,  1814. 

The  mother  of  Dr.  Bethune,  who  is  still  living,  at  the  age  of 
eighty-seven,  was  an  efficient  co-operator  with  her  mother  in  all 
benevolent  enterprises.  In  1812,  the  trustees  of  the  Lancasterian 
School  solicited  the  attendance  of  pious  ladies  to  give  catechetical 
instruction  one  afternoon  of  each  week.  Mrs.  Bethune  attended 
regularly  to  that  work.  In  another  part  of  the  volume  we  have  al- 
luded to  her  co-operation  in  sustaining  schools  at  the  Five  Points. 
She  was  also  equally  efficient  with  her  mother  in  organizing  the 
first  Orphan  Asylum ;  and  in  the  establishment  of  Sabbath-schools, 
and  of  organizations  for  the  relief  of  the  poor,  she  and  her  husband 
were  devoted  laborers.  Their  lives  of  noble  benevolence  are  yet 
to  be  written  for  the  guidance  and  encouragement  of  others. 

George  W.  Bethune  was  born  in  New  York,  March  18th,  1805.  He 


PULPIT  MANNER.  391 

received  a  liberal  education,  spending  three  years  at  Columbia  Col- 
lege, and  was  graduated  at  Dickinson  College,  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania. 
He  was  ordained  a  Presbyterian  minister  in  1826,  but  in  the  follow- 
ing year  joined  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church.  His  professional  life 
was  commenced  at  Rhinebeck,  on  the  Hudson,  from  whence  he  re- 
moved to  Utica,  where  he  founded  a  new  church.  In  1834  he 
went  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  was  connected  with  two  churches, 
the  second  of  which,  like  the  one  in  Utica,  was  the  successful  result 
of  a  new  enterprise.  In  1849,  he  came  to  Brooklyn,  at  the  call  of 
a  society  which  was  newly  organized  with  special  reference  to  his 
connection  with  it.     His  people  are  very  strongly  attached  to  him. 

In  delivery.  Dr.  Bethune  impresses  one  with  the  strength  of  his 
convictions,  the  honesty  of  their  expression,  and  the  energy  and 
activity  of  his  mental  workings.  In  the  reading  of  the  Scriptures, 
he  has  a  fulness  of  enunciation  and  a  fervor  of  emphasis,  united 
to  a  culture  of  expression,  which  is  unusual.  In  the  reading  of 
hymns,  he  evidences  the  poet,  and  though  to  most  his  elocution  is 
unexceptionable,  yet  to  a  severe  taste  it  is  carried  one  point  beyond 
perfect  simplicity.  His  manner  would  indicate  the  care  and  self- 
possession  of  a  long  experience  in  successful  oratory.  He  has  free- 
dom and  great  vigor  of  gesture  and  action  of  body,  and  sometimes 
strikes  his  right  hand  firmly  on  the  desk,  or  on  the  left  palm,  ex- 
tended to  receive  it.  He  is  peculiar  for  occasionally  planting  one 
or  both  of  his  hands  on  his  side  ;  for  using  an  eyeglass,  besides 
spectacles ;  and  for  putting  back  a  long  gray  lock  which  falls  over 
his  face.  In  person,  he  is  too  large ;  and  yet  we  cannot  but  use  the 
expressive  Arabic  phrase,  "  May  his  shadow  never  be  less !"  His 
voice  has  force  and  clearness,  and  the  management  of  it  is  notice- 
able, in  that  it  is  sometimes  pitched  on  a  high,  strained  key,  through 
continuous  sentences,  and  at  the  impressive  words  drops  down  an 
octave  with  effect.  He  does  not  speak  frequently  on  the  platform, 
and  not  so  often  as  formerly.  He  is  a  favorite  extempore  speaker, 
not  less  by  the  manifestation  of  conviction  and  interest  in  what 
he  is  saying,  and  by  energetic  oratory,  than  by  a  fehcitous  wording, 
which  unites  a  frank,  happy  humor  with  an  accomplished  style. 
His  church  edifice  is  noticeable  for  receiving  light  from  above, 


392  GEORGE    W.    BETUUNE. 

wliich  produces  a  veiy  pleasant  effect,  and  is  also  suggestive.  The 
music  of  the  church  is  unusually  good.  The  choir  numbers  eight 
persons,  who  possess  culture,  taste,  and  power,  without  extravagance 
or  protrusion  of  art. 

Dr.  Bethune  is  a  fine  representative  of  The  Conservative.  He 
is  naturally  repelled  by  "  fanaticisms,"  or  "  ultraisms,"  or  extra  "  re- 
forms." He  thinks  that  these  progressive  excitements  work  out 
more  evil  than  good,  through  sad  reactions.  He  is  not  what  is 
technically  styled  an  "  anti-slavery"  man,  although  he  regards  sla- 
very as  a  moral,  political,  and  social  evil.  But  he  looks  upon  the 
present  anti-slavery  excitement  as  produced  by  designing  politicians, 
to  subsers'e  selfish  ends,  out  of  popular  material  which  patriots 
should  discourage  rather  than  develop.  He  would  severely  con- 
demn the  advocacy  by  clergymen  of  sending  "  Sharpe's  Rifles"  to 
the  people  of  Kansas. 

So  in  the  matter  of  Temperance  he  esteems  the  insisting  on  total 
abstinence,  and  on  the  support  of  a  prohibitory  law,  as  tests  of  true 
Temperance  principles,  to  be  "  ultra,"  and  the  denunciation  of  those, 
who  occasionally  drink  wine  and  doubt  the  pohcy  of  allying  the 
Temperance  movement  with  politics,  as  wrong.  And  though  he 
never  takes  ardent  spirits  himself,  and  a  glass  of  wine  only  occasion- 
ally, yet  he  would  not  drive  stimulants  fi-om  the  earth.  He  regards 
the  vine  as  a  blessing,  and  thinks  the  Bible  so  teaches.  And  he 
would  place  his  Temperance  principles  on  the  broad  basis  of  his 
other  principles ;  that  virtue  consists  in  self-control  rather  than  in 
abstinence,  and  that  sin  consists  not  in  the  proper  use,  but  in  the 
improper  abuse.  So  with  enjoyment  derived  from  art,  music,  flowers, 
and  literature,  he  answers  the  "  cui  bono  "  criticiser  by  saying,  they 
give  happiness^  and  that  is  a  suflScient  good.  Did  God  paint  the 
flower,  intending  that  we  should  put  on  green  spectacles  ?  Did  He 
create  the  infinities  of  music,  and  then  command  us  to  put  cotton  in 
our  ears  ?  Did  He  profusely  scatter  the  "  good  things  for  food  "  for 
mere  tantalization  ?  No ;  all  these  are  good  and  to  be  enjoyed. 
It  is  only  their  abuse  which  is  wrong.  The  two  extremes  in  life 
are  worldliness  and  asceticism.  Worldliness  results  from  indiffer- 
ence to  religion ;  asceticism  from  self-righteousness.     The  latter  is 


CHARACTERISTICS.  393 

as  offensive  to  God  as  the  former,  and  more  difficult  to  eradicate 
from  the  human  heart.  And  while  he  insists,  of  course,  on  the  firm 
control  of  appetite,  he  regards  self-denial  as  having  a  far  deeper  sig- 
nification, in  the  substitution  of  Christ's  will  for  one's  own  will. 
Such,  we  think,  is  a  correct  outlining  of  his  position. 

Uniting  with  these  principles — which  are  held  with  fidelity  and 
expressed  with  frankness — a  high  standard  of  honor,  a  fine  humor, 
good  sense,  and  unusual  culture,  it  follows  that  his  social  excellencies 
are  distinguished,  and  fortunate  do  those  esteem  themselves  who 
can  share  his  society,  either  on  public  occasions  or  in  the  private 
circle.  His  conversation  is  genial,  suggestive,  adorned  with  humor- 
ous and  pathetic  anecdote,  and  enriched  from  a  memory  well  stored 
from  many  sources.  He  resembles  John  SterHng  in  that  "  his  rev- 
erence was  ardent  and  just,  ever  ready  for  the  thing  or  man  that 
deserved  revering,  or  seemed  to  deserve  it ;  but  he  was  of  too  joyful, 
light,  and  hoping  a  nature  to  go  to  the  depths  of  that  feeling,  much 
more  to  dwell  perennially  in  it.  His  piety  was  prompt  and  pure, 
rather  than  gi'eat  or  intense ;  on  the  whole,  religious  devotion  was 
not  the  deepest  element  of  him.  He  had  no  fear  in  his  composition ; 
terror  and  awe  did  not  blend  with  his  respect  of  any  thing.  In  no 
sense  or  epoch  could  he  have  been  a  church-saint,  a  fanatic  enthu- 
siast, or  have  worn  out  his  life  in  passive  martyrdom,  sitting  patient 
in  his  grim  coal-mine,  looking  at  the  '  three  ells'  of  heaven  high 
overhead.  In  sorrow  he  would  not  dwell ;  all  sorrow  he  swiftly  sub- 
dued and  shook  away  from  him.  I  should  say,  not  religious  rev- 
erence, rather  artistic  admiration,  was  the  essential  character  of 
him." 

Dr.  Bethune  is  fond  of  country  life,  and  especially  devoted  to  "  the 
contemplative  man's  recreation,"  being  somewhat  noted  for  excellently 
editing  the  first  American  edition  of  Isaac  Walton's  Angler,  and  for 
having  gathered  a  remarkable  collection  of  works  on  Fishing.  His 
library  is  unusually  large,  and  the  appearance  of  his  study  reminds 
of  Dickens's  description  of  fog  in  London — books  on  the  walls, 
books  to  the  ceiling,  books  in  the  closets,  books  in  the  recess,  books 
on  the  tables,  books  on  the  floor,  books  on  books,  books  everywhere. 
In  Hterature  he  is  most  fond  of  the  classics  and  of  the  ancient  phi- 


394  GEORGE    W.    BETHUXE. 

losophers,  deeming  it  fair  to  "  spoil  the  Heathen  "  for  the  beautifying 
of  the  temple.  His  collection  of  Latin  and  Greek  volumes  is  remark- 
able, both  for  size  and  value. 

Dr.  Bethune  is  the  author  of  several  works,  written  not  so  much 
for  the  public  as  for  his  own  people,  but  which  have  attained  much 
circulation :  "  The  Fruit  of  the  Spirit ;"  "  Early  Lost,  early  Saved ;" 
"  The  Histoiy  of  a  Penitent ;"  "  Lays  of  Love  and  Faith,  and  other 
Poems ;"  a  volume  of  "  Orations  and  Occasional  Discoiu-ses,"  and  a 
limited  edition  of  a  volume  of  Sermons.  The  volume  of  Orations 
comprises  funeral  discourses  on  the  death  of  Stephen  Van  Rensselaer, 
President  Harrison,  and  General  Jackson;  Lectures  and  College 
Addresses  upon  Genius ;  Leisure,  its  Uses  and  Abuses ;  Age  of  Peri- 
cles; Prospects  of  Art  in  the  United  States;  Eloquence  of  the 
Pulpit ;  Duties  of  Educated  Men ;  Plea  for  Study ;  and  the  Claims 
of  our  Country  upon  its  Literary  Men. 

Dr.  Bethune's  usual  preaching  is  much  of  it  exegetical  or  textual. 
Ho  develops  the  idea  of  the  chosen  text,  and  does  not  use  it  as  a 
motto  simply.  He  explains  and  dissects  the  passage.  His  sermons 
on  occasions  are  thoroughly  elaborated  and  perfectly  finished.  His 
greatest  efforts  have  been  given  before  benevolent  societies.  One  of 
the  best  was  a  sermon  in  behalf  of  the  Foreign  Evangelical  Society. 

The  style  of  his  sermons  in  some  respects  resembles  Orville  Dewey's. 
There  is  the  same  freedom  from  marring  peculiarities,  the  same  grace 
of  movement  and  elegance  of  carriage,  and  the  same  simple  ease, 
adorned  with  rich  but  not  dazzling  ornaments.  The  appellations  are 
chaste,  the  illustrations  are  natural,  and  the  expression  possesses  firm 
fibre  and  high  polish.  The  enlightened  are  attracted  by  compre- 
hensiveness of  thought,  and  the  refined  by  the  care  in  elaboration, 
while  the  rude  enjoy  the  simplicity,  and  are  im^^ressed  by  the  earn- 
estness. 

In  Dr.  Bethune  we  see  nothing  of  the  business  preacher,  who  goes 
to  the  altar  as  a  mechanic  to  his  bench,  or  a  merchant  to  his  desk ; 
neither  do  we  see  the  hireling  preacher,  driven,  by  a  base  lust, 
to  and  through  a  prayer  and  sermon ;  praying  because  he  must  pray, 
and  preaching  because  he  must  preach — the  laborer  working  by  the 
hour.     Neither  is  he  the  careless  preacher,  dashing  recklessly  and 


"  ELOQUENCE   OF   THE   PULPIT."  395 

impiously  upon  his  duties,  unprepared  either  by  meditation  or  study. 
Neither  is  he  the  formal  preacher,  using  set  phrases  which  somebody 
formed  before  him.  Nor  is  he  the  sectarian  preacher — one  more  in 
love  with  his  party  than  with  the  good  and  true — seeking  to  mul- 
tiply the  points  of  difference  rather  than  of  agreement  between  his 
own  and  other  sects — preaching  Self,  and  him  exalted  in  the  place 
of  Christ  and  Him  crucified.  But  Dr.  Bethune  is  a  preacher  who 
is  true  to  his  calling  in  anticipating  its  public  duties  by  diligent  pre- 
paration, and  in  entering  upon  them  with  the  freshness  of  their  first 
and  the  seriousness  of  their  last  assumption.  He  is  also  true  to  his 
people,  coming  before  them  neither  in  the  mask  of  a  lengthened  vis- 
age, nor  tithing  anise  and  cummin,  nor  resorting  to  feigned  tones,  nor 
in  any  way  acting  a  part ;  but,  in  the  simplicity  of  truth,  ministering 
unto  them,  neither  deceiving  nor  being  deceived.  He  always  aims, 
almost  with  exclusive  care,  to  give  the  first  prominence  in  his  preach- 
ing to  the  doctrine  of  Christ  and  His  cross.  The  last  words  of  his 
father  have  doubtless  had  a  marked  influence  over  his  whole  life. 
When  the  noble  Christian  man  was  at  the  point  of  death,  he  turned 
his  expressive  eyes  upon  his  son  and  his  sons-in-law  (who  were 
preachers),  and  said,  "  My  sons,  preach  the  Gospel !  Tell  dying- 
sinners  of  a  Saviour.     All  the  rest  is — but  folly !" 

The  following  extract  from  a  discourse  before  the  Porter  Rhetor- 
ical Society  of  Andover,  on  the  "  Eloquence  of  the  Pulpit,"  gives  a 
good  illustration  of  the  spirituality  and  forcible  style  of  his  sermons : 

"  Brethren,  our  only  sm-e  guide  is  the  High  Priest  of  our  profession. 
Our  only  safety  is  in  a  continual '  looking  unto  Jesus.'  Let  us  look 
to  Him  in  the  manger,  in  his  baptism,  his  temptation,  his  agony, 
and  his  cross.  Study  his  lowly  demeanor,  his  constant  activity, 
his  gentle  meekness,  his  unshaken  confidence,  his  divine  courage. 
Behold  Him  upon  his  throne,  his  mightiness  to  save,  the  glory  of 
his  reward,  his  beckoning  hand  holding  forth  the  palm  and  the 
crown  of  the  faithful  unto  death !  We  have  a  true  teacher,  an  om- 
nipotent support,  a  present  divinity  in  that  Holy  Spirit,  who  baptized 
the  humanity  of  Jesus,  and  strengthened  his  flesh  and  blood  and  hu- 
-Tian  soul,  for  the  susception  and  endurance  of  its  mighty  burden. 
That  Holy  Ghost  is  promised  unto  all  that  seek  his  grace,  and  may 


396  GEORGE   W.    BETHUNE. 

be  ours.  He,  and  He  alone,  can  so  surround  us  in  the  study,  the 
pulpit,  and  our  daily  walk,  as  to  ward  far  from  us  '  each  thing  of  sin 
and  guilt.'  Only  live  and  move  in  Him,  and  by  faithful  invocation 
obtain  his  Presence  to  live  and  move  within  you,  and  your  fidehty, 
your  usefulness  and  reward  are  sure.  '  Commit  your  way  unto  God. 
He  will  bring  it  to  pass.' 

"  Rely  not  upon  the  world.  It  flatters  for  its  own  ends.  The 
popularity  it  can  give  is  evanescent,  and  those  whom  it  applauds  to- 
day, it  will,  when  tired  of  its  plaything,  ridicule,  scourge,  and  lie 
against  to-morrow.  If  God  makes  you  popular,  receive  the  dispen- 
sation humbly  as  giving  opportunities  of  usefulness ;  but  remember 
it  is  a  fearful  gift,  a  most  perilous  elevation,  exciting  envy,  present- 
'^^S  y^^  ^  P^^y  ^^^  ^^s®  ^^^  carping  spirits  to  hawk  at,  liable  at  any 
moment  to  a  painful  reverse  ;  and  worst  of  all,  except  you  be  most 
wakefully  on  your  guard,  sapping  your  spiritual  life,  and  infusing 
through  all  your  best  thoughts  and  duties  a  detestable  self-idolatr}\ 
If  your  lot  be  more  humble,  it  will  be  more  quiet,  and  need  not  be 
unuseful.  Murmur  not  against  it ;  but  living  for  the  best  improve- 
ment of  the  influence  you  have,  await  your  elevation  as  a  faithful 
sen-ant  on  that  day,  when  the  inequalities  of  time  shall  be  more 
than  compensated  by  the  retributions  of  eternity. 

"  Rely  not  upon  the  Church.  It  is  composed  of  converted  sin- 
ners imperfectly  sanctified ;  and  you  will  find  in  it  all  the  passions 
that  agitate  the  world,  though  modified  and  restrained  a  degree. 
Expect  not  gratitude,  no,  not  even  justice.  When  most  disinterest- 
edly you  contend  against  prevailing  errors  in  doctrine  and  practice, 
or  warn  against  encroaching  dangers,  you  must  not  be  surprised  to 
find  your  enemies,  your  slanderers,  your  persecutors,  even  among  the 
household  of  God;  yes,  and  when  the  delusion  is  past,  and  time 
has  justified  your  fears  and  your  warnings,  the  stains  of  that  unjust 
dishonor  will  remain  upon  your  ministerial  character,  while  your 
devotion  to  the  cause  of  truth  is  forgotten. 

"  Rely  not  even  upon  those  whom  you  have  been  the  happy  instru- 
ment of  converting  from  death  unto  life,  and  of  building  up  on  the 
most  holy  faith.  Well  must  you  love  them,  and  sweet  must  be  the 
delight  taken  in  their  dear  company ;  yet  never  be  unwatchful  even 


"eloquence  of  the  pulpit."  397 

against  them ;  never  allow  your  hearts  so  to  lean  upon  them  that 
your  trust  cannot  be  recalled,  and  you  stand  without  their  support. 
Not  a  few  of  these  venerable  men  who  surround  us  will  assent,  when 
I  say,  that  the  shafts  which  have  drunk  our  heart's  peace  with  the 
most  venomed  bitterness,  have  been  aimed  and  urged  by  those  whose 
spiritual  infancy  we  have  nursed  and  watched  over  with  the  most 
yearning  affection. 

"  Trust  none  but  God.  Live  supremely  for  Christ.  Rely  only  upon 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  look  for  your  reward  above  earth  and  beyond 
time.  If  God  bless  you  on  the  way,  thank  Him  and  enjoy  the 
grace ;  but  let  not  even  blessing  delay  your  onward  speed  to  heaven, 
or  seduce  your  contemplation  from  the  joy  which  is  eternal. 

"Beloved  Master,  when  we  behold  Thee  leaving  the  throne  of 
heaven  for  the  manger  of  thy  human  infancy,  the  sorrows  of  thy 
life,  the  bitterness  of  thy  passion ;  when  we  think  of  thy  patience 
with  the  contradiction  of  sinners  against  Thyself,  and  thy  long  suffer- 
ing of  the  lukewarmness  of  thy  people ;  when  we  read  of  the  stu- 
pendous economy  and  riches  of  thy  grace ;  we  wonder  at  the  vast- 
ness  of  the  sacrifice,  and  the  infiniteness  of  the  condescension  ;  but, 
when  we  behold  Thee  on  thy  throne,  thy  victories  all  complete,  thy 
people  all  brought  home,  thy  Church  perfect  in  thine  image,'  and 
hear  the  swelling  chorus  of  praise  that  resounds  through  the  eternal 
years  of  God,  we  know  that  the  purchase  was  worthy  of  its  price 
the  reward,  of  the  sorrow  that  earned  it,  and  the  joy,  of  the  death 
from  which  it  was  born  immortal. 

"  Brethren,  companions  in  tribulation  and  in  the  kingdom  and  pa- 
tience of  Jesus  Christ,  baptized  with  our  Master's  baptism,  partakers 
of  his  cup,  and  followers  of  his  ministry,  what  are  all  the  labors  we 
can  endure,  the  trials  we  must  encounter,  the  sacrifices  we  are  called 
to  make,  compared  with  a  fellowship  in  that  glory,  and  joy,  and  re- 
ward !  I  cannot  speak  of  the  glory  of  the  ascended  Church  when  it 
'shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,'  or  of  the  ascended 
ministers  of  Jesus,  when  they  shall  shine  '  like  stars'  in  that  firma- 
ment '  forever  and  ever.'  It  is  not  given  to  man  to  know,  nor  to  the 
tongue  of  man  to  describe  the  riches  God  has  prepared  for  them  that 
love  Him.    But  God  grant  that  this  we  know  not  now,  we  all  may 


398  GEORGE    W.    BETHIIN^E. 

know  by  sweet  experience  hereafter;  and  that  all  this  Christian 
companv,  meeting  around  the  throne  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty 
and  the  Lamb,  may  behold  his  face  in  righteousness.  Then  shall 
we  be  *  satisfied  with  his  likeness,'  '  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is.' " 
We  append  a  few  specimens  of  his  poetry : 


JOHN  IV.  34. 

Upon  the  well  by  Sychar's  gate, 
At  burning  noon,  the  Saviour  sate, 
Athirst  and  hungry,  from  the  way 
His  feet  had  trod  since  early  day ; 
The  Twelve  had  gone  to  seek  for  food, 
And  left  him  in  his  solitude. 

They  come  and  spread  before  him  there, 
With  faithful  haste,  the  pilgrim  fare, 
And  gently  bid  him :  "  Master,  eat !" 
But  God  had  sent  him  better  meat. 
And  there  is  on  his  gentle  brow, 
Nor  weariness  nor  faintness  now. 

For  while  they  sought  the  market-place, 
His  words  had  won  a  soul  to  grace ; 
And  when  He  set  that  sinner  free 
From  bonds  of  guilt  and  infamy, 
His  heart  grew  strong  with  joy  divine. 
More  than  the  strength  of  bread  and  wine. 

So,  Christian,  when  thy  faith  is  faint. 
Amidst  the  toils  that  throng  the  saint. 
Ask  God  that  thou  mayst  peace  impart 
Unto  some  other  human  heart ; 
And  thou  thy  Master's  joy  shalt  share, 
E'en  while  his  cross  thy  shoulders  bear. 


"the  auld  scotch  saugs." 


THE  AULD  SCOTCH  SANGS. 
(aTTER  hearing  ICR.  DEAtPSTER  SING.) 

0 !  SING  to  me  the  auld  Scotch  sangs, 

I'  the  braid  Scottish  tongue, 
The  sangs  my  father  loved  to  hear, 

The  sangs  my  mither  sung ; 
When  she  sat  beside  my  cradle. 

Or  croon'd  me  on  her  knee, 
An'  I  wad  na  sleep,  she  sang  sae  sweet, 

The  auld  Scotch  sangs  to  me. 

Yes !  sing  the  auld,  the  gude  auld  sangs, 

Auld  Scotia's  gentle  pride, 
0'  the  wimpling  burn  and  the  sunny  brae. 

An'  the  cosie  ingle-side ; 
Sangs  o'  the  broom  an'  heather, 

Sangs  o'  the  trysting  tree. 
The  laverock's  lilt  and  the  gowan's  blink; 

The  auld  Scotch  sangs  for  me ! 

Sing  ony  o'  the  auld  Scotch  sangs. 

The  blythesome  or  the  sad ; 
They  mak'  me  smile  when  I  am  wae, 

An'  greet  when  I  am  glad. 
My  heart  gaes  back  to  auld  Scotland, 

The  saut  tears  dim  mine  e'e. 
An'  the  Scotch  bluid  leaps  in  a'  my  veins, 

As  ye  sing  thae  sangs  to  me. 

Sing  on,  sing  mair  o'  thae  auld  sangs ; 

For  ilka  ane  can  tell 
0'  joy  or  sorrow  i'  the  past. 

Where  memory  loves  to  dwell ; 


399 


400  GKOEGE    W.    BETHUNE. 

Though  hair  win  gray,  and  limbs  win  auld, 

Until  the  day  I  dee, 
I'll  bless  the  Scottish  tongue  that  sings 

The  auld  Scotch  sangs  to  me. 


SONG. 

She's  fresh  as  breath  of  summer  mom, 

She's  fair  as  flowers  in  spring, 
And  her  voice  it  has  the  warbling  gush 

Of  a  bird  upon  the  wing ; 
For  joy  like  dew  shines  in  her  eye, 

Her  heart  is  kind  and  free ; 
'Tis  gladness  but  to  look  upon 

The  face  of  Alice  Lee. 

She  knows  not  of  her  loveliness. 

And  little  thinks  the  while, 
How  the  very  air  grows  beautiful 

In  the  beauty  of  her  smile ; 
As  sings  within  the  fragrant  rose 

The  honey-gath'ring  bee. 
So  murmureth  laughter  on  the  lips 

Of  gentle  Alice  Lee. 

How  w^elcome  is  the  rustling  breeze 

When  sultry  day  is  o'er ! 
More  welcome  far  the  graceful  step, 

That  brings  her  to  the  door ; 
'Tis  sweet  to  gather  violets : 

But  oh !  how  blest  is  he. 
Who  wins  a  glance  of  modest  love, 

From  lovely  Alice  Lee ! 


RICHARD  S.   STORRS,  JR 


Now  therefore,  0  God,  strengthen  my  hands." 


*RiCHARD  S.  Storks,  Jr.,  is  pastor  of  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims 
in  Brooklyn.  He  is  now  in  his  thirty-sixth  year : — is  the  faithful, 
eflficient,  beloved  pastor  to  one  of  the  leading  congregations  in  the 
City  of  Churches.  As  connected  with  a  leading  religious  paper,  as 
the  writer  of  some  very  able  re^^ews,  as  one  popular  among  lecturers, 
and  eloquent  upon  the  platform ;  chiefest  and  best  of  all  as  a  devoted 
preacher  of  great  power  and  promise,  he  is  well  and  widely  known. 
Few  clergymen  of  his  years  and  vicinity,  surpass  him  in  general  cul- 
ture and  ripe  scholarship.  Honest  without  affectation,  and  fearless 
without  bravado,  he  is  a  fine  type  of  the  Congregational  clergymen 
out  of  New  England. 

Dr.  Storrs  seems  to  have  been  ancestrally  preordained  to  the  Con- 
gregational ministry.  The  choice  New  England  stock  from  which 
he  springs,  was  clerical  in  its  root  and  branches,  sap  and  leaves. 
His  father  is  Rev.  Richard  S.  Storrs,  D.  D.,  of  Braintree,  Mass.  It  is 
a  name  esteemed  and  venerable,  of  one  who,  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury, has  been  pastor  of  the  Braintree  Congregational  Church,  and 
identified  with  all  the  most  important  religious  movements  that  have 
taken  place  in  New  England  during  that  time.  Dr.  Storrs's  grand- 
father was  Rev.  Richard  S.  Storrs,  who  ended  his  days  at  Long 
Meadow,  after  having  been  for  nearly  forty  years  pastor  of  the  Con- 
gregational Church  in  that  place.     His  great  grandfather  was  Rev. 

*  For  this  sketch  of  Dr.  Storrs  we  are  indebted  to  Stephen  E.  Burrall,  Esq., 
of  New  York. 

26 


402  RICHARD    S.    STORKS,    JR. 

John  Storrs,  who  for  some  time  was  pastor  of  the  Congregational 
Chm-ch  at  East  Hampton,  L.  I.,  and  who  afterwards  returned  to  Mans- 
field, Conn.,  his  native  place,  and  there  died.  We  once  heard  Dr. 
Bethune  remark,  at  a  dinner  of  the  Congregational  Union,  "  that 
New  England  people  were  forever  talking  about  Bunker  Hill  and 
Plymouth  Eock,  yet  were  constantly  leaving  home,  and  you  never 
could  get  them  back  there  oftener  than  once  a  year,  and  Thanksgiving 
Day  at  that."  So  we  take  great  pleasure  in  citing  the  case  of  Rev. 
John  Storrs  as  one  instance  to  the  contrary. 

Dr.  Storrs  was  bom  in  Braintree ;  and  it  is  not  a  bad  place  to  be 
bom  in,  for  it  seems  to  make  up  for  lack  of  mountains  in  its  breed  of 
men  :  we  never  should  have  known  of  John  Hancock,  the  Adamses, 
or  Quincys,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Braintree. 

We  know  but  httle  of  his  boyhood,  yet  'suppose  any  New 
England  boy  can  guess  it  pretty  nearly.  For  ourselves,  we  shall 
venture  to  guess  only  so  much  as  this — that  the  very  Shekinah  of 
it  were  the  words  and  prayers  of  a  New  England  Mother.  We  will 
write  that  last  word  very  slowly ;  and  if  our  pen  had  a  head,  and 
wore  a  hat,  it  should  write  the  rest  of  this  article  uncovered.  Part 
of  Mr.  Storrs's  preparation  for  college  was  done  at  the  academy  in 
Monson,  Mass.  He  graduated  from  Amherst  College  in  1839,  being 
eighteen  years  of  age,  and  the  youngest  member  of  his  class.  After 
graduation,  he  read  law  for  some  months  in  connection  with  the 
office  of  Hon.  Ptufus  Choate,  and  subsequently  entered  the  Theologi- 
cal Seminary  at  Andover.  Ill  health  obliging  him  to  discontinue 
his  studies  for  a  time,  he  was  engaged  as  one  of  the  teachers  of  Wil- 
liston  Seminary,  at  East  Hampton,  Mass.  Returning  afterwards  to 
Andover,  he  there  completed  his  theological  course,  and  entered  the 
ministry  six  years  after  his  college  graduation.  Receiving  soon  after 
a  call  to  be  pastor  of  a  Congregational  church  in  Brookline,  Mass., 
he  accepted  it,  and  continued  at  that  place  about  a  year.  In  1845 
he  was  married  to  Miss  Mary  E.  Jenks,  of  Andover,  Mass.  In  the 
month  of  November,  1846,  he  was  installed  as  pastor  of  the  Churcli 
of  the  Pilgrims. 

He  was  at  this  time  in  his  twenty-sixth  year,  had  had  but  one 
year's  experience  in  the  ministry,  and  was  in  delicate  health.     The 


403 

post  to  which  he  was  called,  would  have  been  most  trying  for  any 
man,  whatever  his  age,  ability,  or  character.  Had  it  been  an  old 
and  firmly  established  church,  the  position  would  have  been  most 
arduous.  But  it  was  a  new  edifice  and  a  new  enterprise.  It  was 
all  important  a  right  beginning  should  be  made.  The  congregation 
was  large  and  wealthy,  the  church  iedifice  costly  and  unique  in  its 
architectural  design,  the  whole  position  of  things  calculated  to  force 
both  pastor  and  people  into  a  prominent  position  before  the  commu- 
nity, and  we  can  well  remember  now,  the  remark  made  us  by  a 
shrewd  friend,  soon  after  the  subject  of  our  sketch  was  installed,  "  that 
the  place  would  either  spoil  or  kill  him."  Ten  years  have  well-nigh 
sufficed  to  prove  the  falseness  of  the  prophecy. 

Just  at  this  point,  it  is  but  proper  we  should  glance  at  the  origin 
and  history  of  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims  in  Brooklyn,  there  being 
many  things  in  its  rise  and  progress,  which  deserve  not  only  to  be 
mentioned  but  remembered. 

It  is  probably  well  known,  that  the  Congregational  system  of 
Church  government,  although  more  prevalent  in  New  England  than 
any  other,  had,  until  a  comparatively  recent  period,  made  but  small 
advances  beyond.  Several  years  before  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims 
was  organized,  the  attempt  had  been  made  to  establish  a  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Brooklyn,  which  had  been  peopled  to  a  surprising 
degree  by  natives  of  New  England.  But  the  attempt  had  failed  ; 
and  many  even  seemed  to  suppose  that  Congregationalism  could 
not  thrive  upan  any  but  a  New  England  soil.  As,  year  after  year, 
therefore,  the  population  of  the  city  was  increased  by  emigrants 
from  the  New  England  States,  these  united  themselves  to  the  vari- 
ous religious  denominations  already  existing,  the  Congregationalist 
from  Boston,  or  New  Haven,  or  Portland,  becoming,  for  the  most 
part,  the  Presbyterian  in  Brooklyn.  And  yet  there  was  all  the 
while  in  many  New  England  hearts  an  abiding  love  for  the  old 
Church  of  their  fathers.  With  no  disposition  towards  proselytism,  no 
wish  to  quarrel  A\nth  other  forms  of  worship,  or  those  who  preferred 
them,  they  felt  in  their  inmost  selves  "that  the  Congregational 
system  was  the  best  system — the  best  in  itself,  the  best  for  the  com- 
munity and  times."     They  loved  its  old  simplicity,  they  hugged  to 


40i  RICHARD    S.    STORKS,    JR. 


their  hearts  its  fundamental  idea,  "  that  any  body  of  Christians,  as- 
sociated together,  and  statedly  meeting  for  the  worship  of  God  and 
the  administration  of  Christian  ordinances,  constituted  a  Christian 
Church,  was  to  be  regarded  as  such,  and  was  possessed  of  all  the 
powers  and  privileges  incident  thereto."  They  revered  its  honored 
names  of  John  Robinson,  and  Bradford,  and  Miles  Standish,  and 
the  gentle  Lady  Arabella,  "  who  took  New  England  on  her  way  to 
heaven."  They  loved  its  mossy  memories  of  Holland  and  Delft 
Haven,  and  the  May  Flower's  cabin.  They  could  remember  no 
Gothic  pile,  nor  groined  arch,  nor  trained  choirs,  nor  pealing  an- 
thems ;  but  dear  memories  they  had  of  a  temple  built  in  the  wil- 
derness, and  arched  by  a  foreign  sky.  Its  corner-stone  was  a  rock 
at  Plymouth ;  the  snows  of  December  carpeted  its  floor ;  and  the 
bleak  winds  of  winter,  sighing  through  the  primeval  and  leafless 
woods  that  were  its  columns,  blended  with  the  Pilgrim's  song  of 
praise  to  form  the  sublime  ritual  of  that  early  Chm-ch. 

Such  a  Church  was  thought  worthy  to  be  remembered  and  per- 
petuated, therefore,  wherever  the  descendants  of  the  Pilgrims  went. 
And  at  length  the  feeling  became  so  general,  it  needed  only  that 
some  one  should  take  the  initiative,  and  the  work  was  done.  In 
the  year  1844  "The  Church  of  the  Pilgrims"  commenced  its  exist- 
ence as  an  organized  body.  The  first  meeting  preparatory  to  an 
organization  was  held  upon  a  cold  inclement  January  evening,  with 
only  a  few  present,  and  when  the  lawyer's  office  where  they  met  had 
by  some  oversight  "  been  left  unlighted  and  unwarmed." 

It  was  a  small  and  feeble  beginning,  but  a  beginning  nevertheless ; 
and  men  who  are  at  all  thoughtful,  and  observing,  do  not  despise  the 
day  of  feeble  beginnings.  The  handful  that  came  together  organized 
regularly,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  draft  a  plan  for  subscrip- 
tions, the  time  for  another  meeting  was  fixed,  and  all  present  deter- 
mined to  enlist  others  in  the  enterprise.  In  a  very  short  time,  and 
before  ground  had  been  broken,  subscriptions  were  raised  to  an  amount 
which  it  was  supposed  would  cover  the  entire  cost  of  the  lot,  build- 
ing, organ,  and  the  entire  furniture  of  the  house ;  for  those  engaged 
in  the  enterprise  thought  that  churches  could  no  better  aff"ord  to  be 
in  debt  than  individuals,  if  as  well ;  and  that  it  was  by  no  means  ad- 


405 

visable,  that  while  the  Israelites  were  quietly  engaged  in  the  temple 
service,  outside  Amalekites  and  Hittites  should  be  perfecting  liens 
upon  the  temple  itself. 

The  corner-stone  was  laid  on  the  2d  of  July,  1844,  amid  much 
real  thankfulness,  and  much  genuine  humility ;  but  here  and  there 
some  ill-advised  and  ill-concealed  exultations,  whose  key-note,  in 
five  sharps,  was  very  speedily  flatted.  Contrary  to  all  expectation, 
the  church  edifice  was  hindered  in  its  completion  by  one  unforeseen 
cause  after  another,  and  was  not  finally  dedicated  until  the  12th  of 
May,  1846.  The  estimated  cost  had  been  $25,000  ;  but  greatly  ad- 
ditional means  were  required  in  the  progress  of  the  work,  so  that 
upon  its  completion  the  expense  actually  incurred  was  $40,000  in 
excess  of  this  first  estimate,  and  the  church  commenced  with  a 
debt  of  $18,000. 

Moreover,  in  obtaining  a  pastor,  many  obstacles  occurred,  unex- 
pected and  alm.ost  unaccountable.  Invitations  to  the  pastorate  were 
given,  one  after  another,  to  those  who  seemed  just  the  men  for  the 
place,  but  who,  for  various  reasons,  dechned  accepting.  The  post 
was  important,  the  people  longed  for  a  leader,  but  none  came.  At 
this  juncture  Mr.  Storrs  received,  and  conditionally  accepted,  an 
invitation  to  become  the  pastor.  Previously,  and  while  making  a 
brief  visit  to  Brooklyn,  he  had  been  requested  to  preach  for  the 
congregation  then  worshipping  in  the  lecture-room.  He  declined 
doing  so,  but  consented  to  conduct  the  Sabbath  evening  meeting,  at 
which  he  chose  a  text,  and,  without  notes,  gave  what  might  be 
termed  a  lecture ;  and  it  is  somewhat  singular  that  this  was  the  only 
time  of  his  oflBciating  before  the  congregation,  prior  to  receiving 
the  invitation  spoken  of.  Yet,  even  when  the  call,  as  we  have  stated, 
had  been  conditionally  accepted,  it  was  afterwards  feared  it  must  be 
refused,  and  the  hopes  of  the  church,  as  often  before,  be  again  disap- 
pointed. Every  hindrance,  however,  was  at  length  removed,  and  he 
was  installed,  as  already  said,  in  the  month  of  November,  1846. 
The  responsibilities  he  assumed,  the  fears  and  hopes  for  him,  are 
only  known  to  those  who  rocked  the  infant  cradle  of  that  church ; 
and  in  its  days  of  present  prosperity,  when  it  cannot  only  stand 
alone,  but  leaps  and  sings  in  the  pride  of  its  strength,  it  can  do  no 


406  KICHAKD   S.    STORKS,   JR. 

harm  to  recur  to  those  days  when  it  crept  feebly  into  being.  From 
the  time  of  his  first  entrance  upon  his  pastoral  duties,  there  has  been 
a  steady  increase  in  the  congregation,  now  among  the  very  largest 
in  the  city.  That  he  has  been  a  constant  and  foithful  worker,  every- 
body knows,  who  knows  any  thing  about  him.  The  Sabbath-school 
connected  with  the  church  is  large  and  flourishing,  while  the  aggre- 
gate of  subscriptions  to  benevolent  objects,  during  the  ten  years  of 
his  ministry,  is  about  $70,000.  In  Januar}-,  1848,  measures  were 
adopted  by  the  church  to  free  themselves  from  the  debt  we  have 
already  mentioned,  and  these  measures  resulted  in  the  subscription, 
within  the  society,  of  the  whole  amount,  before  the  first  of  April  fol- 
lowing. In  the  month  of  June,  1847,  nine  members  of  the  church 
were  dismissed,  to  unite  with  others  in  establishing  the  church  of 
which  Mr.  Beecher  is  at  present  the  pastor.  It  has  likewise  aided  to 
form  and  build  up  other  churches  in  Brookljm  and  its  vicinity,  and 
has  seen  the  denominational  interest,  so  insignificant  at  the  commence- 
ment of  their  enterprise,  assuming  rapidly  a  strength  and  character 
not  to  have  been  anticipated ;  and  at  which  the  church  itself  has 
often  been  surprised.  We  have  alluded  to  the  state  of  Dr.  Storrs's 
health  when  he  came  to  Brooklyn.  In  this  there  has  been  a  steady 
improvement,  and  it  is  firmly  established  at  the  present  time. 

There  are  those  who  always  wish  to  know  how  men  look  and 
seem.  Mr.  Storrs  is  tall,  and  of  a  frame  naturally  athletic.  His 
countenance  is  intellectual,  and  what  some  call  spiritual  in  its  cast. 
In  the  pulpit  he  w^ears  a  gown,  which  ive  like.  His  manner  has 
always  been  free  from  the  aflectation  and  display  which  are  endured 
in  elderly  clergymen,  ridiculed  in  younger  ones,  and  liked  in  none. 
His  enunciation  is  distinct,  though  very  rapid,  and  occasionally 
marked  by  a  slight  mannerism.  His  delivery  is  very  nervous,  forci- 
ble, and  impressive.  A  person  once  spoke  to  us  of  his  dehvery,  "  as 
being  the  worst  for  a  very  good  he  had  ever  known."  It  does  for 
him,  but  would  never  bear  to  be  imitated.  Yet  it  is  always  eflective : 
veiy  often  eloquent.  His  voice  is  remarkable  for  its  depth  and 
power,  and  when  excitement  calls  it  forth,  it  fiiirly  rings  upon  the 
oaken  ceihng  of  his  church. 

Mr.  Storrs's  discourses  always  show  great  care  of  composition. 


STYLE.  407 

The  fault,  if  any,  is  of  excessive  elaboration.  Many  of  us  need 
handling  without  gloves ;  and  the  evils  of  this  age  call  for  home- 
thrusts.  He  has  the  faculty  of  saying  what  he  washes  to,  and  saying 
it  well.  His  illustrations  are  always  wisely  selected,  and,  together 
with  his  imagery — for  which  he  has  more  than  a  slight  fondness — 
are  chaste,  forcible,  and  often  exceedingly  beautiful.  From  the  very 
beginning,  his  discourses  have  shown  remarkable  maturity  of  thought, 
and  an  admirable  arrangement.  He  presents  a  subject  very  fully, 
and  each  portion  would  be  missed  from  the  completed  discourse. 
It  has  seemed  to  us  that  he  had  a  great  partiality  for  developing 
subjects ;  for  presenting  them  in  diflferent  lights ;  for  elaborating  an 
idea  once  presented,  instead  of  enunciating  it  boldly  at  once,  and 
leaving  the  rest  for  his  hearers ;  and  that  hence  his  sermons  were 
not  so  suggestive  as  they  would  otherwise  be.  Sometimes,  both  in 
reading  and  hearing  him,  we  have  noticed  a  fondness  for  what 
seemed  to  be  certain  pet  words,  and  occasionally  for  such  as  were 
unusual,  and  out  of  the  way,  when  simpler  ones  would  have  an- 
swered just  as  well,  if  not  better.  A  mind  constituted  like  his,  is  in 
danger  of  regarding  too  much  the  drapery  of  ideas :  of  sitting  too 
long  upon  the  refining-chair,  when  it  were  better  to  jump  straight 
down  into  the  ore-bed,  and  do  strong  execution  with  pickaxe  and 
shovel.  And  yet,  if  any  person  should  conceive  from  the  foregoing 
remarks  that  Dr.  Storrs  was  a  man  all  tropes  and  figures,  we  hasten 
to  correct  any  such  impression.  We  have  Hstened  to  and  read 
single  discourses  of  his,  that  had  in  them  body  enough  to  keep  the 
Rev.  Charles  Honeyman  busy  for  two  years  in  draping.  Dr.  Storrs 
is  a  strong  man,  though  he  has  lived  but  thirty-six  years.  Men 
are  not  always  weak  because  they  are  imaginative.  Dryness  is  not 
always  solidity,  and  mayhap  he  is  as  great  a  sculptor,  w^ho  hews  you 
the  head  of  Jove,  crowned  with  Ol3Tiipian  locks  and  with  majesty 
on  its  awful  forehead,  as  he  who  whittles  out  a  bare,  brainless,  eye- 
less skull.  We  must  say,  however,  we  have  sometimes  thought  Dr. 
Storrs's  thoughts  suffered  from  too  little  conciseness  of  expression, 
and  that  occasionally,  when  he  was  about  to  admit  us  into  the 
contemplation  of  some  grand  and  over-arching  subject,  he  kept  us 
standing  too  long  in  the  doorway,  namely,  the  text.     They  may 


408  RICHARD   S.    STORRS,    JR. 

recommend  this  at  Andover,  rhetorical  rules  may  insist  upon  it,  but 
in  the  worid's  broad  school  there  is  sometimes  a  weight  and  pressure 
in  a  subject  which  should  drive  Dr.  Blair  into  an  exceedingly  small 
comer,  with  his  face  to  the  wall.  We  do  not  care  to  be  held  too 
long  at  arm's  end,  to  hear  too  many  abstract  propositions  respecting 
subjects  which  touch  us,  our  friends,  homes,  hearts — chiefest  of  all 
om-  duty  ;  or  if  we  do,  it  is  an  indulgence  that  should  not  be  shown 
us :  and  what  is  lost  in  rhetorical  completeness  is  gained  oftentimes 
in  the  whole  effect,  we  think,  by  laying  bare  the  great,  red,  throbbing 
heart  of  a  subject  at  two  strokes  of  the  knife. 

But  it  is  not  in  Dr.  Storrs's  written  efforts  alone,  that  his  excel- 
lence as  a  preacher  consists.  Some  of  the  most  acceptable  sermons 
to  which  his  congregation  has  ever  listened  have  been  preached 
wholly  without  notes.     He  excels  also  as  a  platform  speaker. 

From  some  sermons  and  discourses  before  us  we  make  the  follow- 
ing extracts,  not  professing  a  very  careful  selection,  but  hoping  they 
may  give  the  reader  some  correct  idea  of  Dr.  Storrs's  written  style. 

The  first  extract  is  from  a  seimon  entitled  "  Congregationalism,  its 
Principles  and  Influences,"  first  preached  before  the  General  Asso- 
ciation at  Madison,  and  published  in  1848.  In  speaking  of  one 
princij^le  of  the  Congregational  system,  to  wit,  "  That  each  local 
society  of  believers,  having  once  by  its  owm  act,  been  constituted  as' 
a  church,  is  thereafter  self-complete,  and  self-conti'olling,  rightfully 
independent  of  the  jurisdiction  of  others,"  the  writer  says : 

"  A  minor,  and  yet  not  altogether  an  unimportant  felicity  con- 
nected with  it"  (the  principle  above  stated),  "  is  this :  it  will  facihtate 
the  diffusion  of  Church  Institutions. 

"  Wherever  there  is  a  company  of  Christians  agreeing  in  their 
reception  of  the  essential  truth,  and  desiring  to  be  associated  for 
the  worship  of  the  Highest,  there  may  a  church  at  once  be  con- 
stituted. No  magic  episcopal  grace  is  needful  to  the  work.  No 
aid,  even,  of  presbyters  is  essential  to  its  completion.  There  is  no 
precise  law  and  pattern  of  organization  w^hich  must  be  adhered  to, 
and  deviation  from  which  invalidates  the  proceeding.  The  whole 
is  a  matter  of  free  consent  and  mutual  adjustment.  Upon  the  plat- 
form of  their  common  faith,  the  associated  disciples,  by  their  agree- 


CONGREGATIONALISM.  409 

ment  with  each  other,  erect  their  own  church  organization :  an 
organization  complete  within  itself,  and  rightfully  independent  of 
every  other.  Wheresoever,  therefore,  the  Gospel  goes,  thither  the 
Church  of  Christ  may  follow  it  at  once.  That  Gospel  may  be 
carried,  conceivably,  to  the  remotest  lands,  by  shipwrecked  mari- 
ners, by  the  sailor-boy  in  his  Bible.  Borne  upon  the  almost  view- 
less tracts,  those  fleet  and  serial  messengers  that  are  now  sent  forth 
on  every  wind,  almost  as  the  germs  and  blossoms  of  tropical  fruits 
are  said  sometimes  to  be  carried  over  seas  and  continents  upon 
the  pinions  of  the  storm,  the  truths  which  constitute  the  essence 
of  the  Gospel — its  tidings  of  redemption,  its  revelation  of  Christ — 
may  reach  the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth ;  may  be  implanted, 
and  may  spring  up  in  beauty,  and  may  bring  forth  their  fruit  amid 
the  islands  of  Central  Africa,  or  in  the  wilds  and  fastnesses  of  that 
ancient  empire  whose  walls,  when  Paul  was  writing,  were  hoary 
with  the  moss  of  centuries,  or  on  some  lonely  and  almost  unin- 
habited island  of  the  southern  Pacific :  in  lands  where  no  voice  of 
the  living  preacher  was  ever  heard,  and  to  which  no  other  ambassa- 
dor of  the  cross  has  ever  pierced  ;  and  distant  as  is  that  land,  and 
unapproached  and  inaccessible,  there  may  be  constituted  at  once 
the  Church  of  Christ  in  all  its  privilege  and  prerogative ;  with  no 
more  need  of  aid  fi'om  without,  in  order  to  the  perfectness  of  its 
development,  than  the  germ  would  have,  when  once  deposited  upon 
the  distant  mountain,  of  the  presence  and  aid  of  other  germs  to 
quicken  it  in  activity,  and  matm^e  it  into  a  tree." 

The  next  extract  is  from  a  sermon  entitled,  "Christianity:  its 
Destined  Supremacy  on  the  Earth,"  which  was  preached  April  6 
and  13,  1851,  before  the  Foreign  Missionary  Society  of  New  York 
and  Brooklyn. 

After  an  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  Christianity,  and  an  argu- 
ment for  its  supremacy  in  the  earth,  based  first  upon  "  The  very 
fact  that  God  has  established  and  introduced  it  to  human  knoivl- 
edgeP  2.  "  That  the  interior  structure  of  Christianity^  its  fitnesses 
to  man^  the  reply  which  it  gives  to  his  deepest  demands^  also  promise 
this  supremacy y  3.  "  That  the  accomplishment  of  this  final  supre- 
macy of  Christianity  will  nobly  complete  the  circle  of  History  ;  will 


410  RICHAKD    S.    STORES,    JR. 

give  unity  and  ivhokness  to  the  annals  of  the  Race ;  will  show  through 
their  courses  a  sublime  method'''  4.  "  That  the  specific  declarations 
of  God  in  the  Scriptures  assure  us  of  that  result;"  and,  lastly, 
"  That  the  historic  2^rogress  of  Christianity  among  men,  with  the 
nature  of  the  arena  on  which  it  now  acts,  gives  assurance  of  its 
supremacy."     The  writer  concludes  as  ibllows : 

"  How  ought  we  then,  my  friends,  to  labor  for  Christianity  ?  to 
spread  its  Truth,  its  Promise  and  Life?  For  this  one  practical 
lesson,  I  have  brought  to  you  the  subject.  Cheerfully,  joyfully 
should  we  labor;  with  enthusiasm  and  confidence,  and  with  the 
energy  of  endeavor  which  these  inspire.  We  are  placed  at  a  criti- 
cal point  in  the  progress.  Our  agencies  and  advantages  are  vast  for 
action.  If  we  act  vigorously,  we  send  an  influence  far  out  on  Time. 
If  we  now  falter,  and  turn  upon  our  course,  if  we  think  that  Chris- 
tianity is  becoming  effete,  that  some  new  force  must  take  its  place, 
that  some  manifestation  of  Christ  in  His  glory  must  precede  its 
supremacy — we  are  failing  at  the  point,  where  of  all  we  should  be 
strong.  The  moral  argument  against  such  theories,  derived  from 
their  influence  in  repressing  Christian  activity,  is  definite  and  just. 
The  hostile  pressure  from  the  Scriptures  and  from  the  past,  is  enough 
to  overwhelm  them.  Let  us  never  allow  them  to  hamper  our  effort. 
Our  duty  is  to  work  !  with  ardor  and  fidelity ;  not  with  passionate, 
fitful  impulse,  but  with  an  energy  that  abides,  and  grows  mightier 
as  develojjed — 

*  Like  the  star — unhasting  ; 
Like  the  star — unresting  !' 

"  We  ought  to  grapple  Christianity  ourselves,  with  a  firmer  faith, 
with  a  deeper  attachment ;  to  illustrate  its  beauty  more  brightly  in 
our  life :  to  enter  more  largely  its  truth  and  promise,  and  its  spirit 
of  grace.  We  ought  to  apply  it  more  stringently  to  affairs.  We 
ought  to  spread  it  more  rapidly  to  others.  As  an  age  distinguished 
for  the  rapid  extension  of  commercial  relations,  and  the  rapid  ad- 
vance of  mechanic  arts,  this  should  be  pre-eminently  a  missionary 
age.  The  resources  God  gives  us,  are  to  be  used  in  His  service. 
Let  an  unfailing  trust  direct  their  application.     With  everv  im- 


SUPKEMACY    OF   CHKISTIANITY.  411 

provement  which  invention  develops,  our  effort  should  increase; 
with  every  new  field  that  opens  before  us,  its  reach  should  be 
wider.  The  press,  the  railway,  steam-frigates,  the  voices  that  talk 
like  genii  in  the  air — they  all  must  be  subordinated,  and  more  and 
more,  to  Him  who  cometh !  They  arise  to  us  in  God's  Providence — 
this  swift  unwearying  foot,  this  iron  lung,  this  column  of  fire  which 
carries  as  well  as  guides,  this  nerve  of  nations — and  so  they  must 
be  used,  by  God's  people  for  His  purjDoses.  What  the  Fathers  did 
with  art,  as  it  rose  in  the  cathedral,  as  it  blushed  upon  the  can- 
vas, that  we  must  do  wuth  art,  as  it  heaves  in  the  engine,  as  it 
thrills  on  the  wires.  Amid  these  quick  electric  times,  when  knowl- 
edge is  increasing,  when  many  are  running  to  and  fro,  when  society 
is  sensitive  to  every  impulse,  when  God  in  His  providence  seems 
taking  the  masses,  and  shaking  them  asunder,  that  truth  may  reach 
them,  when  even  across  the  seas  He  bares  the  kingdoms  to  the  force 
of  the  Gospel,  and  breaks  the  archways  beneath  which  we  may 
bear  the  banner  of  Salvation.  Now,  more  than  ever,  we  should 
labor  for  Christ,  and  use  every  force  for  the  spread  of  His  system ; 
so  that  the  annihilation  of  distance  upon  the  earth  may  teach  men 
what  Carlyle  says  it  cannot,  '  the  winged  flight,  through  immensity, 
to  God's  Throne ;'  so  that  the  cheaper  fabrics,  the  swifter  railways, 
may  '  help  men  towards  what  Novalis  calls  God,  Freedom,  and  Im- 
mortality.' The  penetrating  despondency  that  enthralls  some  minds, 
as  if  Christianity  were  growing  weak, — the  subtle  skepticism  that 
binds  the  will  with  its  fine  filaments,  and  teaches  men  to  doubt  if 
the  system  can  grapple  the  problems  of  our  times,  if  it  can  master 
the  resistances  that  here  and  there  confront  it,  can  work  out  freedom 
and  truth  among  us,  if  it  will  not  be  lost  amid  politics  and  arts,  if 
the  personal  coming  of  the  Lord  is  not  needed  to  renew  it — let  us 
cut  sharply  through  this  with  the  blade  of  God's  promise !  Let  us 
lift  ourselves  above  it,  remembering  the  past !  Let  us  never  despond ! 
no,  not  for  an  hour !  We  might  have  done  that,  under  the  terrible 
domination  of  the  first  persecution.  We  might  have  done  that, 
when  the  sculptured  sarcophagus  of  a  system  of  Sacraments  en- 
cased Christianity.  But  what  have  we  to  do  with  despondency, 
what  with  any  thing  but  gladness,  and  the  grandest  activity,  when 


/ 

412  RICHARD   S.    STORRS,   JR. 

standing  witli  the  Scriptures  open  and  free,  with  Christianity  throned 
in  them,  and  God  on  their  side,  amid  an  era  so  briUiant  and  pro- 
pitious !  Oh,  if  we  have  faith  and  a  justified  courage,  if  we  use  the 
resources  God  gives  us  so  amply,  if  we  draw  down  by  prayer  that 
aid  which  He  has  pledged — then  may  we  see  this  truth  progressing 
broadly,  with  vast  rapidity,  towards  glorious  predominance !  The 
redemption  of  Christ,  the  glory  of  God,  the  beauty  of  Heaven,  the 
grace  of  the  Spirit — on  all  the  troubled  waves  of  life  these  shall 
shed  their  sweet  influence.  They  shall  kindle  new  joy  throughout 
the  race.  Meliorations  in  society  shall  follow  them  as  they  go,  re- 
sponding to  their  impulse.  They  shall  cover  the  earth  with  forms 
of  beauty !  By  eveiy  hope  that  springs  within  us,  by  the  confi- 
dence of  prayer  inspired  of  the  Spirit,  by  the  manifold  voices  of 
history  and  the  present,  by  the  promises  that  stud  the  arch  of  God's 
word — we  know  that  to  be  possible !  For  that,  Christianity  was 
given  and  is  fitted !  For  that,  then,  we  should  strive !  until  the 
Fact  answers  the  Prophecy ;  until  the  dawn  has  brightened  into 
day! 

"  For  the  last  thought,  my  hearers,  connected  with  this  subject, 
how  \ividly  does  this  come  to  us  :  The  personal  obligation  of  each  of 
us  to  submit  from  the  heart  to  Chrisfs  dominion/  The  ancient 
legend  of  the  Church,  that  Julian  died  exclaiming  as  he  expired, 
'  Galilean,  thou  hast  conquered !'  is  certain  to  be  realized,  for  the 
substance  of  its  history,  in  every  soul  not  submitted  to  Christ.  His 
rule  at  last  shall  be  complete ;  and  the  period  of  that  sway  shall 
encompass  eternity.  How  great  then  the  pri\alege  of  now  accepting 
Him ;  of  entering  through  faith  the  kingdom  He  administers ;  of 
finding  in  that  our  permanent  home  !  It  is  very  observable  in  the 
scriptural  disclosures,  concerning  the  glory  to  be  reached  in  mil- 
lennium, that  the  blessedness  of  earth  seems  to  shade  away  into  the 
blessedness  of  heaven.  The  horizon  of  the  Future  to  the  inspired 
seer,  instead  of  being  sharp  and  defined  against  the  embosoming 
eternity,  as  was  that  of  the  past,  where  time  in  its  relations  to  man 
began,  melts  away  into  glory,  and  is  merged  in  the  infinite ;  as  the 
edge  of  the  cloud  is  dissolved  beneath  the  splendor  of  the  sun  at  his 
setting ;  and  one  can  scarcely  tell  where  earth  has  closed  and  heaven 


FUGITIVE   SLAVE   LAW.  413 

begins.  Ah,  that  shall  be  the  felicity  of  the  soul  that  has  truly  and 
inwardly  taken  Christ  as  its  prince  !  It  shall  dwell  on  earth  and 
dwell  in  heaven ;  on  the  glorified  earth,  bright  with  Christ's  pres- 
ence, amid  the  rapture  of  heaven,  where  He  is  enthroned  !  But  in 
that  last  and  glorious  age — oh,  let  us  feel  this ! — that  age  to  whose 
perfection  all  others  shall  have  contributed,  and  in  whose  glory  they 
all  shall  be  crowned ;  there  will  be  found  no  place  on  earth,  no 
place  in  heaven,  for  him  who  hath  not  bowed  to  Christ !  The  do- 
minion of  Messiah  hath  no  premises  for  him  1" 

In  a  discourse  entitled  "  The  Civil  Law — man's  obligation  to  obey 
it,"  after  what  we  conceive  to  be  a  most  manly  and  masterly  exposi- 
tion of  the  subject,  abstractly  considered,  application  of  the  princi- 
ples set  forth  is  made  to  the  particular  case  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Law,  and  Dr.  Storrs  thus  defines  his  own  position  in  respect  to  the 
surrender  of  the  Fugitive  Slave : 

"  iS'ay,  nay,  my  friends  !  I  cannot  do  this  essential  injustice ! 
Though  the  commands  of  the  law  were  a  hundredfold  more  strin- 
gent, I  would  not  touch  a  hair  of  that  man's  head !  Though  its 
penalties  were  accumulated  to  tenfold  greatness,  they  should  not 
shut  my  doors  against  him  !  I  will  not  resist  the  law  by  force  and 
violence.  I  wdll  even  advise  the  man  to  flee  it,  if  he  can,  and  not 
resist  it,  although  it  hurls  him  back  upon  his  right  of  self-defence. 
But  I  will  not  obey  it,  unless  by  bearing  its  penalties.  The  man 
who  does  otherwise  is  in  peril  of  his  soul.  For  eternity  is  grander 
than  time  and  its  scenes  !  The  eye  that  shall  search  our  life  at  the 
judgment  is  more  terrible  than  that  of  the  human  tribu^nai !  and  he 
that  hath  done  wrong  shall  meet  it  there !  The  omniscience  of 
God  will  never  forget  it !  I  do  not  find  that  my  fathers  covenanted 
that  I  should  do  this  act ;  but  if  they  did,  it  must  be  cancelled.  I 
cannot  renew  a  covenant  for  such  a  crime.  It  is  said  that  the  Union 
is  imperilled  by  such  refusal.  But  consequences  are  doubtful,  and 
right  is  definite.  It  is  right  to  do  what  God's  law  bids  us,  in  rela- 
tion to  our  brother,  though  the  world  shake  beneath  us  !  I  know 
the  results  that  seem  poised  upon  the  Union.  But  if  that  is  right- 
eous, and  is  worthy  of  preservation,  it  cannot  require  such  iniquity 
to  its  support.     God  certainly  would  not  save  it  by  the  disregard  of 


414  RICHARD    S.    STORES,    JR. 

his  law.  And  he  that  does  the  right,  under  the  government  of  God, 
is  always  safe.  He  falls  in  with  the  lines  of  God's  purpose  and 
requirement.  He  works  towards  the  ultimate  good  of  all !  He  is 
in  harmony  with  that  system  whose  law  is  holiness." 

We  had  marked  also  for  insertion  here  portions  of  an  article  in 
the  February  number  of  the  New  Englander  for  1853,  upon  "  The 
True  Success  of  Human  Life,"  and  of  a  discourse  delivered  in  1854, 
on  the  occasion  of  the  semi-centennial  anniversaryofMonson  Academy, 
upon  "  The  Relations  of  our  Present  and  Coming  Civilization  to  Good 
Letters  and  their  Progress."  But  we  have  already  exceeded  our 
limits,  and  cannot  insert  them,  although  we  long  to  do  so.  K  Dr. 
Storrs  had  never  published  any  thing  but  the  Discourse  last  men- 
tioned, it  would,  in  our  judgment,  of  itself  have  sufficed  to  give  him 
a  place  as  a  writer  in  the  very  front  rank  of  American  clergymen  now 
living,  and  that  we  know  of,  whether  old  or  young.  There  is  also 
before  us,  "  The  Report  of  the  Committee  appointed  by  the  Society 
for  the  Promotion  of  Collegiate  and  Theological  Education  at  the 
West,  to  confer  with  the  Trustees  of  Western  Reserve  College;" 
which  was  drawn  up  by  Dr.  Storrs,  and  has  scarcely  a  figure  of 
speech  in  it,  but  which  our  friend,  the  unimaginative  critic,  will  find 
to  be  as  patiently,  judiciously,  and  ably  prepared,  as  if  Dr.  Storrs  had 
never  made  use  of  a  metaphor  since  he  was  born. 

One  extract  more  we  must  make,  however,  from  a  platform  ad- 
dress made  before  the  American  Bible  Society,  at  its  thirty-fifth 
anniversary,  in  support  of  the  fourth  and  following  resolution : 

'■'•Resolved^  That  the  translation  of  the  Divine  Word  into  the 
languages  of  man  is  a  work  of  such  difficulty,  such  liability  to  error, 
and  such  immeasurable  importance,  as  properly  to  demand  for  those 
engaged  in  it  the  affectionate  consideration  of  this  Society,  and  the 
sympathy  and  prayers  of  all  who  love  God." 

Mr.  Storrs  thus  speaks  of  our  obligations  to  the  present  version 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  influence  it  has  exerted  upon  our  liter- 
ature : 

"  And  now  consider  what  influence  this  version  has  put  into  our 
literature — I  might  say  into  all  the  history  and  life  of  the  English 
people.     It  comes  to  us  with  authority  from  our  childhood.     Its 


A   NEW    VEIiSION   OF   THE   BIBLE.  415 

words  are  heard  amid  circumstances  best  adapted  to  make  them 
impressive — on  the  Sabbath,  in  the  chm*ches,  in  the  family  devotions. 
They  have  been  taught  in  even  the  common-schools  of  our  land, 
blessed  be  God  for  that !  They  have  become  wrought,  we  may  say, 
into  the  very  substance  and  texture  of  our  thoughts,  our  associations, 
our  earliest  and  most  cherished  expressions.  And  so  they  act 
mightily,  as  an  educating  power,  on  the  popular  mind.  They  have 
done  so  for  generations.  They  act  even  upon  the  higher  depart- 
ments of  literature.  What  delicate,  fairy-like  forms  this  tough  and 
oaken  Saxon,  so  skilfully  combined  with  the  more  majestic  Roman 
tongue,  has  been  wrought  into  in  hymns  and  the  structures  of 
poetry ;  in  those  beautiful  '  Songs  of  Zion,'  to  which  reference  has 
been  made !  Who  has  not  observed  in  the  great  senatorial  orator 
of  our  times,  that  when  he  rises  to  the  highest  point  of  eloquence, 
the  very  pitch  of  his  power,  he  reverts  to  the  simple  Biblical  phrase 
that  was  famihar  to  us  in  childhood  ?  And  it  is  by  that  that  he  shakes 
the  heart  of  his  hearers  with  his  wonderful  force.  For  what  would 
we  give  up  the  influences  which  this  version  has  put  in  our  literature  ? 
For  what  would  we  give  up  the  version  itself?  There  is  a  company 
of  gentlemen,  I  believe,  in  this  city  who  are  desiring  and  endeavor- 
ing to  put  this  out  of  use,  and  to  substitute  another  for  it,  prepared 
according  to  their  notions.  I  do  not  speak,  certainly,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  a  committee,  or  of  any  society,  but  simply  as  a  Christian 
man,  indebted  too  deeply  to  our  most  noble  version  to  be  willing  to 
give  it  up,  when  I  say,  that  no  man,  in  my  judgment,  intelligently 
weighing  this  matter,  would  think  for  a  moment  of  such  an  exchange. 
Give  up  our  version,  sir  ?  Why  it  was  nine  hundred  years  in  com- 
ing to  its  completion!  It  is  hallowed  with  such  memories  as 
scarcely  belong  to  another  human  work.  It  stretches  back  one  of 
its  far-reaching  roots  to  the  very  cell  of  Bede.  It  strikes  down 
another  beneath  the  burnt  ashes  of  WicklifFe.  It  sends  another 
under  the  funeral  pile  of  Tyndale.  It  twists  another  around  the 
stake  where  Cranmer  was  burned.  Give  up  this  version  for  a  trim 
and  varnished  new  one !  Nay,  verily.  Those  broad  contorted  arms 
have  wrestled  with  the  fierce  winds  of  opinion  for  two  hundred  years. 
The  sweet  birds  of  heaven  have  loved  to  come  and  sing  among  them; 


416'  RICHAKD    S.  STORES,    JR. 

and  they  sing  there  still.  Their  leaves  are  leaves  of  life  and  healing. 
There  is  not  a  text  pendant  upon  those  boughs  but  has  the  stuff  of 
religion  and  literature  in  it.  They  have  given  of  their  ribbed 
strength  to  every  enterprise  for  human  welfare.  Give  up  this  ver- 
sion !  It  is  our  American  inheritance.  It  came  over  in  the  May 
Flower ;  it  was  brought  by  Oglethorpe  to  Georgia ;  it  has  spread 
across  our  land;  it  has  been  the  joy  of  generations  to  sit  under 
its  shadow.  It  will  stand  while  the  hills  stand.  Sir,  I  think  we  will 
not  give  up  this  oak  of  the  ages  for  any  modern  tulip-tree,  at  present." 
We  have  said  that  the  Church  of  the  Puritans  (Mr.  Beecher's) 
was  an  offshoot  from  the  Church  of  the  Pilgrims.  It  is,  or  used  to 
be,  very  much  the  fashion,  therefore,  in  the  community  where  both 
minister,  to  institute  comparisons  between  the  respective  pastors, 
some  of  which  have  seemed  to  us  in  no  sort  legitimate.  To  say 
nothing  of  the  difference  in  age  and  experience,  it  is  well-nigh 
impossible  to  conceive  two  individuals  more  unlike — physically, 
mentally,  generally.  They  may  be  contrasted^  but  that  sort  of  com- 
parison, which  makes  either  the  standard  by  which  to  judge  the 
other,  is  altogether  incorrect,  we  think.  Men  are  not  required  to 
labor  their  lives  long,  in  destroying  whatever  indi\'iduality  God 
may  have  given  them,  by  ser^dlely  copying  somebody  else ;  on  the 
contrary,  they  are  required  to  be  their  own  improved  and  perfected 
selves.  The  primeval  oak  would  make  but  a  poor  ancestral  elm. 
Mercury  was  not  Mars,  nor  Juno,  Minerva,  yet  the  old  mythology 
put  them  all  upon  Olympus.  Mr.  Storrs  seems  like  one  who  knew 
books  better  than  men:  Mr.  Beecher  knows  men  as  men  know 
books.  Mr.  Storrs  preaches  subjects  to  men :  Mr.  Beecher,  them- 
selves to  men.  Mr.  Beecher  is  intensely  practical :  Mr.  Storrs, 
though  he  never  visits  dream-land,  loves  once  in  a  while  to  think 
of  it.  Mr.  Storrs  can  say  witty  things :  Mr.  Beecher  cannot  help 
saying  funny  things.  Mr.  Beecher  is  rugged  and  abrupt :  Mr.  Storrs 
polished  and  complete.  Mr.  Storrs  is  earnest  and  impressive :  Mr. 
Beecher  impassioned  and  explosive.  Mr.  Storrs  excels  in  the  rich- 
ness of  his  rhetoric :  Mr.  Beecher  in  the  richness  of  his  ideas.  Mr. 
Storrs  uses  fine  powder  and  a  smooth-bore  rifle,  silver  mounted : 
Mr.  Beecher  double  charges  a  rusty-looking  creased-bore,  with  a 


LITURGIES.  4.;^'^ 

mixture  of  coarse  and  fine,  and  bites  the  bullet  that  never  misses. 
Mr.  StoiTs  has  no  lack  of  veneration :  Mr.  Beecher  has  no  lack  of  the 
want  of  it.     Mr.  Storrs  is  not  fond  of  controversy :  but  the  scalding 
waters  of  debate  could  not  even  parboil  Mr.  Beecher.     What  then ! 
Must  the  Arab  courser  become  the  English  war-horse,  or  Richard's 
battle-axe,  the  Damascus  blade  of  Saladin  ?     Must  the  Corinthian 
column  become  Doric,  or  Lebanon,  Sinai  ?      Shall   the  material 
world  be  full  of  variety,  and  the  mental  and  spiritual  be  flat  and 
uniform  ?     Shall  not  the  key-bugle  sound  its  own  note,  but  would 
the  walls  of  Jericho  have  tumbled,  if  Gideon's  rams'-horns  had  imi- 
tated the  sackbut  ?     For  our  own  part,  we  are  thoroughly  glad,  that 
two  men  so  unhke  in  temperament  and  mental  character,  so  similar 
in  catholicity  of  spirit,  in  loftiness  of  aim,  and  in  consecration  of 
purpose,  should  have  been  placed  at  such  posts,  and  in  juxtaposition. 
They  differ  widely— all  others  do,  and  it  is  best  they  should. 

Mr.  Storrs  has  of  late  appeared  as  a  strong  advocate  of  what  is 
called,  although  not  with  entire  correctness,  a  Congregational  Lit- 
urgy. Some  seem  to  suppose  that  the  movement  upon  this  subject 
contemplates  a  grafting  of  the  Episcopal  Prayer-Book,  or  certain  por- 
tions of  it,  upon  Congregational  churches.  We  understand  it  to  be, 
in  the  main,  and  simply,  a  movement  in  favor  of  Congregational 
worship:  that  is  to  say,  of  certain  forms  and  methods  of  church 
worship,  adapted  to,  and  capable  of  being  shared  by  the  whole  con- 
gregation. 

In  respect  of  this  subject,  the  Episcopal  Church  seems  to  be  at  one 
extreme,  and  the  Congregational  at  the  other.  The  proper  mean,  it 
is  thought,  is  between  both  of  them.  There  can  be  no  question  that 
other  denominations  recognize  very,  very  much  that  is  most  devout 
and  beautiful  in  the  forms  of  the  Episcopal  Church.  Still  they 
are  thought  to  be  too  stiff  oftentimes,  and  unyieldkg;  not  always 
adapting  themselves  to  the  wants  of  the  congregation,  or  the  exigen- 
cies of  circumstances.  This  indeed  is  felt  to  be  an  evil,  by  some  at  • 
least  among  Episcopalians  themselves.  In  the  Congregational 
Church,  as  a  rule,  the  entire  office  of  external  worship  devolves  upon 
the  clergyman  at  one  end  of  the  church,  and  the  choir  and  organist 
at  the  other.     Just  here,  then,  the  question  arises,  What  is  the  grand 

27 


4tlS  RICHARD   S.   STORRS,    JR. 

and  primal  object  for  whicli  each  Christian  congregation  meets  upon 
the  Sabbath  day  ?  Certainly  not  to  hear  a  minister  preach,  or  a 
choir  sing;  but  for  the  appropriate  pubhc  worship  of  God — the 
prinlege,  and  duty  of  worship,  belonging  just  as  much  to  the  child 
in  the  gallery,  as  to  the  minister  in  the  pulpit.  In  this  respect,  the 
whole  congregation  stands  upon  the  same  footing :  the  true  congre- 
gational idea  of  a  minister,  in  its  simplest  elements  being,  a  man 
chosen  and  set  apart  by  the  congregation,  on  account  of  the  excel- 
lence of  his  attainments,  the  superiority  of  his  character,  and  the 
purity  of  his  piety,  to  be  its  leader,  guide,  and  instructor  in  religious 
things.  In  no  sense  is  he  like  the  Jewish  High  Priest,  going  once 
a  year  alone  into  the  inner  sanctuary,  making  the  offerings,  and 
bearing  the  sins  for  the  whole  congregation.  Nor  is  the  church  a 
religious  lecture-room,  with  gallery  and  choir,  but  a  temple  for  God's 
worship  !  Are,  then,  the  true  ends  of  the  Sabbath  assemblage  best 
answered,  by  allowing  minister  and  choir  to  perform  the  whole 
external  act  of  a  duty  binding  alike  upon  all  ?  There  are  many 
ministers,  whose  extemporaneous  prayers  are  always  fervent  and 
appropriate.  There  are  others  of  devout  spirit,  and  nice  sense  of 
propriety,  who  fail,  nevertheless,  in  instant  and  fitting  expression. 
There  are  others  of  fervent  and  fluent  utterance,  who  not  infre- 
quently indulge  in  petitions,  that  shock  the  feelings  of  all  assembled. 
But  in  the  first  case  mentioned,  the  congregation  cannot  know 
what  is  to  be  asked  for,  until  the  words  are  uttered.  In  the  second, 
the  labor  and  diflSculty  of  following  the  minister,  interferes  seriously 
with  the  enjoyment  and  benefit  of  the  act  of  worship.  In  the  third, 
an  individual  must  make  choice  of  one  of  three  alternatives :  either 
to  unite  in  a  petition  which  he  does  not  approve,  or  to  offer  a  dif- 
ferent petition  himself  from  the  clergyman  with  whom  he  is  sup- 
posed to  be  uniting,  or  offer  none. 

Would  not,  then,  the  true  ends  of  the  Sabbath  service  be  better 
attained,  by  a  form  of  worship  only  to  be  adopted  by  the  congrega- 
tion after  careful  thought  and  discussion,  but  which,  when  once 
adopted,  all  might  know,  and  in  which  all  might  join  ?  There  is 
no   Episcopacy  about   this.     Episcopacy  is  surely  something  else 


CONGREGATIONAL   WORSHIP.  419 

than  a  cliurcli  where  the  entire  congregation  joins  audibly  in  the 
service.  Suppose,  for  example,  any  one  church  of  the  Congrega- 
tional denomination,  or  delegates  from  an  association  of  churches, 
should  agree  to  have  church  singing,  instead  of  choir  singing ;  to 
have  the  portion  of  Scripture  selected  for  the  day,  read  alternately 
by  pastor  and  people ;  to  have  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  Apostles'  Creed 
embodied  into  the  service,  and  to  recommend  to  all  the  congrega- 
tion to  join  in  these,  with  whatever  further  recommendations  might 
be  made,  and  we  only  mention  these  by  way  of  illustration — and 
suppose  that  for  these  recommendations,  were  claimed  only  the 
weight,  and  authority,  which  the  wise  and  careful  counsel  of  a 
majority  always  should  have,  and  which  recommendations,  if  adopted, 
should  in  nowise  interfere  with  the  minister's  liberty  of  extempo- 
raneous prayer,  whenever  occasion  required;  would  there  be  any 
thing  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Congregationalism  in  this  ?  Would 
not  a  form  of  service,  based  upon  such  recommendations,  tend  rather 
to  increase  the  interest  of  young  and  old  in  sanctuary  observances, 
to  inspii'e  increased  respect  for  the  word  and  the  house  of  God,  an^  be 
more  in  accordance  with  true  ideas  of  Sabbath  worship  ?  The  ques- 
tion, after  all,  turns  upon  this,  for  the  right  to  adopt  such  a  form  is 
inherent  in  every  Congregational  church,  and  it  is  not  legitimate  to 
kill  such  a  proposed  change  by  the  bare  statement  "  that  it  is  an 
innovation  upon  long-established  Congregational  forms."  It  was 
John  Robinson  himself  who  said,  "  If  God  reveal  any  thing  to  you, 
by  any  other  instrument  of  his,  be  as  ready  to  receive  it  as  ever  you 
were  to  receive  any  truth  by  my  ministry,  for  I  am  verily  persuaded, 
— I  am  very  confident,  the  Lord  has  more  truth  yet  to  break  out  of 
his  holy  word."  There  was  undoubtedly  a  tendency  on  the  part  of 
the  first  dissenters,  who  broke  away  from  what  they  conceived  the 
extreme  of  formalism,  to  rush  themselves  to  the  other  extreme.  The 
Pilgrims  were  men  of  the  times,  and  for  the  times ;  although,  in 
more  respects  than  we  can  enumerate,  men  that  have  been  unsur- 
passed since  the  world  stood.  But  it  from  thence  in  nowise  follows 
that  Gothic  temples  should  be  defaced,  or  images  broken,  or  witches 
hanged,  or  the  Connecticut  blue-laws  re-enacted.     Practically,  too. 


420  KICHAKD    S.    STOKKS,    JK. 

there  has  been  innovation.  Meeting-houses  are  churches,  ministers 
are  clergymen,  congregations  do  join  in  singing,  and — a  worse  sort 
of  innovation — sit  in  prayer. 

In  these  hasty  remarks,  we  have  in  the  main  indicated  the  views 
which  we  believe  are  held  by  Dr.  Storrs.  The  subject  is  interesting, 
and  we  should  like  to  enter  more  largely  into  it,  had  we  time. 

We  are  sure,  there  is  enough  upon  both  sides  of  the  question  to 
deserve  most  careful  thought  and  discussion.  It  must  be  met  upon 
its  own  merits,  if  met  at  all.  It  cannot  be  killed  by  the  sharp,  but 
superficial  statement,  however  skilfuUy  flung,  that  the  movement 
savors  of  Episcopacy.  Before  now,  extremes  have  met,  and  we  are 
sure  there  is  a  leaven  of  real  worth  in  this  subject,  which  is  quietly 
but  efiectually  working,  and  which  will  prove  itself  powerful  for 
good,  within  a  few  close-coming  years. 

But  we  must  close,  even  though  we  would  gladly  abide  longer  in 
the  shadow  of  a  good  man.  We  can  only  say  in  conclusion,  that 
few  men  are  more  genial  and  delightful  in  intimate  social  life  than 
Dr.  Storrs.  There  is  a  natural  sensitiveness  and  reserve,  apparent  in 
general  society,  which  disappears  altogether  when  he  is  among  those 
by  whom  he  is  best  known.  He  combines  very  great  simplicity  of 
character,  and  gentleness  of  disposition,  with  the  most  thorough 
fearlessness,  and  presents  in  his  own  person  a  choice  example  of  the 
Christian  gentleman. 


X--t>:>'-Z^ 


STEPHEN  HIGGINSON  TYNG, 

THE  EXTEMPOEE  PKEACHEE. 


"  Whatsoever  shall  be  given  you  in  that  hour,  that  speak  ye." 


IfR.  TvNa,  as  a  representative  preacher,  should  be  discussed  in 
three  aspects— as  an  extempore  preacher,  a  preacher  to  the  young, 
and  an  impersonation  of  extreme  "  Low-Church  "  sentiments. 

As  an  extempore  speaker  he  has  not  his  superior  in  the  American 
Pulpit ;  and  if,  in  comparative  criticism,  one  includes  all  the  par- 
ticulars which  enter  into  accomplished  Extempore,  he  has  not  his 
equal.  He  excels  in  self-possession,  in  fluency,  in  command  of  lan- 
guage, in  quotation,  in  local  allusions,  in  keen  thrusts,  in  denuncia- 
tion, in  fire  of  expression,  in  flash  of  eye,  in  force  of  gesture,  and  in 
climaxes  of  eloquence.  Public  sentiment  regards  him  as  Prince  of 
Platformers. 

In  view  of  this  it  is  a  significant  fact,  full  of  encouragement  to 
young  professional  men,  that  Dr.  Tyng  did  not  begin  professional 
life  as  a  remarkable  extempore  speaker.  He  was  forced  into  Extem- 
pore by  circumstances.  During  the  first  two  years  after  taking 
orders  he  was  obliged  to  teach  school  for  a  livehhood,  and,  having 
little  time  for  writing  sermons,  was  compelled  to  talk  in  the  pulpit 
And  yet  so  seldom  did  he  satisfy  himself  with  the  extempore  expres- 
sion of  his  thought  and  feehng,  and  so  liable  was  he  to  failure,  that 
for  years  Extempore  was  uphill  work.  But,  from  the  outset,  regard- 
ing this  as  the  best  way  of  preaching,  he  persevered  against  dis- 
couragements, and  though  cast  down,  would  not  be  destroyed.    He 


422  STEPHEN    H.    TYNG. 

reasoned  that  the  pulpit  is  established,  partly  for  instruction,  but 
principally  for  the  kindling  of  sensibilities,  the  rousing  of  aflfectione, 
the  awakening  of  the  soul.  The  school  is  the  place  for  instruction, 
and  the  pulpit  for  inspiration.  And  instruction,  when  used  in  the 
pulpit,  is  rather  a  means  to  inspiration  than  an  end  in  itself.  All 
thorough  and  precise  elaboration  of  truth,  which  properly  forms  the 
foundation  of  a  sermon,  belongs  to  the  study,  and  is  best  embodied 
in  writing;  but  the  application  of  that  truth  by  illustration,  by 
expression  of  heart-beatings,  by  personal  appeal,  by  all  the  varied 
manifestation  of  sympathy  and  interest  and  love,  is  best  expressed 
by  Extempore,  and  can  with  difficulty  be  naturally  and  effectively 
expressed  by  reading  or  recitation.  Expression  must  come  fresh 
from  the  heart,  to  reach  the  heart,  with  all  the  dewdrops  on  it. 
The  Quakers  chng  to  a  strong  position,  so  far  as  the  department  of 
preaching  goes.  They  insist  on  entire  faith  in  the  inspiration  of 
the  moment.  The  command,  "  Take  no  thought  beforehand  what 
ye  shall  speak,  neither  do  ye  premeditate,"  they  obey.  Hence  their 
preachers,  when  destitute  of  education,  of  mental  discipline,  of  cul- 
ture, and  of  superior  natural  endowment,  interest  and  move  an  audi- 
ence to  a  singular  degree.  And  when  possessing  the  gifts  and  edu- 
cation which  form  the  most  effective  preacher,  they  hold  an  audience 
in  more  thorough  control  than  equally  gifted  preachers  who  rely  on 
special  preparation.  In  writing,  one  is  too  self-conscious,  thought 
gives  way  to  form,  and  rhetoric  usurps  the  place  of  truth ;  but  let  a 
preacher,  with  self-forgetful  consecration  and  reliance  on  God's  help, 
cast  himself  on  the  waters  of  Extempore,  full  of  his  subject  and  fired 
with  love,  and  he  will  inevitably  speak  "  thoughts  that  breathe  and 
words  that  burn."  Such,  we  apprehend,  would  be  a  fair  statement 
of  Dr.  Tyng's  views. 

With  this  conviction  of  the  importance  of  Extempore  in  the 
pulpit.  Dr.  Tyng  held  on  against  all  failures  and  discouragements. 
As  an  illustration  of  this  we  cannot  withhold  an  anecdote  casually 
told,  in  a  conversation  on  oratory,  by  a  friend  and  brother  clergy- 
man of  Dr.  Tyng's.  He  said,  "  To  illustrate  what  perseverance  can 
do,  I  must  tell  you  a  fact  about  Dr.  Tyng.  You  know  his  proud 
position  as  an  extempore  preacher.    He  has  gained  it  by  the  power 


EXTEMPORE.  423 

of  will.  It  was  discouraging  business  to  him  for  the  first  years ; 
so  much  so,  that,  during  the  second  year  of  his  settlement  at  George- 
town, when  attempting  Extempore  one  aftemoou  in  his  pulpit,  with 
distinguished  members  of  Congress  present,  he  became  confused, 
hesitated,  tried  to  regain  composure,  failed,  stumbled  on  in  the 
midst  of  embarrassment,  finally  forgot  his  text,  and,  after  ten 
minutes,  broke  down  completely.  That  was  a  hard  experience  for 
a  young  man ;  and  on  his  way  home  the  oppressive  silence  was 
finally  broken  by  his  wife  saying,  '  Now,  husband,  is  it  not  clear 
that  you  should  give  up  this  preaching  without  notes?'  'Those 
words,'  said  Dr.  Tyng  to  me, '  roused  my  whole  nature.'  '  Give  up  V 
I  said.  *No,  never,  with  God's  help!'  and  he  didn't.  And  yet 
that  man,  fluent  as  he  is,  brave  and  self-reliant  as  he  seems,  never 
goes  into  the  pulpit  without  painful  apprehensions,  sometimes  even 
the  most  painfal  conviction  of  impending  failure.  He  is  sensitive  to 
circumstance  and  surroundings,  is  easily  disturbed,  and  even  harassed 
by  changes  or  interruptions,  rarely  if  ever  feels  a  comfortable  satis- 
faction with  a  puDlic  effort,  and  more  often  is  prostrated  by  dis- 
couragement at  supposed  failure." 

Truly  the  life  of  the  extempore  preacher  is  a  hard  life  to  lead ; 
yet,  perhaps,  the  very  sensibility  of  nerve,  the  very  tremulousness  of 
spiritual  fibre,  susceptible  to  such  pain,  is  the  essential  of  the  ex- 
tempore orator,  who  is  called  to  thrill  the  duller  hearts  of  others 
with  the  throbbing  inspiration  of  his  own. 

There  are  special  difficulties  connected  with  pulpit  Extempore. 
The  limited  time  is  a  serious  one.  The  speaker  dare  not  enlarge 
as  the  thought  develops,  lest  he  speak  too  long,  or  be  forced  to 
omit  the  closing  application.  The  customary  length  of  a  sermon  is 
often  too  brief  to  pass  from  the  foundation  of  calm  exposition  to  the 
pinnacle  of  towering  eloquence.  This  is  especially  the  case  with  Dr. 
Tyng,  who  times  himself  by  a  clock  in  his  pulpit,  preaching  usually 
thirty,  and  rarely  more  than  thirty-five  minutes.  In  neither  of  these 
ways  is  the  orator  of  the  bar  or  forum  hampered.  He  may  speak 
successive  hours  or  even  days ;  he  may  modify  to-day  the  free  ex- 
pression of  yesterday ;  he  may  enlarge,  and  enforce,  and  illustrate  to 
the  full  satisfaction  of  an  appreciating  and  fruitful  intellect. 


4:24  STEPHEN   H.    TYNG. 

Moreover,  the  preacher's  sense  of  responsibility — greater  than  the 
lawyer's — tends  to  paralyze  rather  than  strengthen.  A  sense  of 
personal  superiority,  too,  promotes  good  Exteropore,  from  which 
the  preacher  is  debarred  ;  because  the  difference  is  less  between  him 
and  his  audience  than  between  a  lawyer  and  his  jury,  and  because 
his  religion  inculcates  humility.  Hence  he  is  in  danger  of  being 
dull  by  self-restraint  if  he  be  not  foolish  by  freedom. 

Yet  the  preacher  has  two  advantages  which  overshadow  all  disad- 
vantages— con\'iction  of  speaking  the  truth,  and  divine  assistance, 
both  promised  and  imparted.  Let  then  the  example  of  Dr.  Tyng  stim- 
ulate to  efibrt.  There  is  no  peculiar  gift  in  Extemj^ore  more  than  in 
writing,  or  acquisition,  or  mechanics.  Eveiy  man,  to  be  sure,  has 
his  caUing.  Some  will  succeed  in  one  thing  better  than  others. 
William  Norris,  of  Philadelphia,  for  example,  failed  more  than  once 
as  a  merchant,  and  then  said,  passionately,  "  I  will  never  try  again  : 
I  was  born  to  be  a  blacksmith,  I  always  wanted  to  be  a  black- 
smith, now  I  will  be  a  blacksmith."  And  he  kept  his  word ;  opened 
a  shop  in  the  country  at  first,  and  now  builds  the  world-renowned 
locomotives,  whose  manufacture  has  yielded  multiplied  fortunes. 
Every  man  has  his  gift,  but  no  more  of  speaking  than  of  writing. 
Perseverance  will  win  the  prize  for  most.  And  is  it  not  the  highest 
object  ofiered  to  the  men  of  the  New  World — success  as  the  Extem- 
pore Preacher  ? 


A  second  very  interesting  part  of  Dr.  Tyng's  character  and  life  is 
his  successful  effort  in  Sunday-schools.  The  following  sentences, 
culled  from  a  sermon,  will  indicate  his  sentiments : 

"  The  great  object  which  we  have  in  view  in  Sabbath-school  in- 
struction is — '  to  'plania  the  children  of  our  land  '  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord.'  We  wish  to  constitute  true  piety  their  pleasure  and  their 
home ;  to  make  the  privileges  and  ordinances  of  the  Gospel,  the  ap- 
pointed channels  of  divine  grace  to  man,  the  soil  in  which  they  are 
to  grow,  and  the  atmosphere  from  which  they  are  to  be  nourished 
by  the  blessing  of  God  containing  and  imparting  the  vitality,  the 


SUNDAY-SCHOOLS.  425 

life-giving  spirit  by  which  they  are  to  be  sustained,  and  through 
which  they  are  to  gain  the  gift  of  life  eternal.  This  is  the  grand 
object  of  Sunday-school  instruction. 

"  It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  there  have  been  already,  in  the 
Sunday-schools  of  this  country,  many  thousand  children  spiritually 
renewed  for  God.  There  probably  is  not  a  pastor  in  our  land  whose 
aflfections,  and  time,  and  prayers  have  been  given  in  any  fair  measure 
to  this  important  part  of  his  great  work  of  winning  souls,  but  can 
testify  to  the  faithfulness  of  Ood  in  his  blessing  upon  this  interesting 
portion  of  the  flock.  There  is  no  part  of  the  pastor's  charge  which 
so  readily  and  surely  rewards  him  for  all  the  toil  and  effort  which 
he  devotes  to  it  as  the  Sunday-school.  It  has  appeared  to  me,  for 
several  years,  a  remarkable  and  unaccountable  oversight  among  many 
of  the  ministers  of  Christ,  who,  I  doubt  not,  really  feel  an  interest  in 
the  salvation  of  souls,  that  so  little  comparative  attention  has  been 
given  to  what  aU  my  observation  and  judgment,  as  well  as  all  my 
own  experience,  have  united  to  convince  me  is  the  most  pliable  por- 
tion of  the  subjects  of  their  effort,  and  the  field  which  renders  them 
the  most  speedy  and  abundant  harvest  for  the  labor  which  is  be- 
stowed upon  it.  Their  minds  are  stored  with  the  truths  of  the  holy 
Word  of  God.  They  have  acquired,  and  have  laid  up,  a  knowledge 
of  the  Scriptures — the  facts,  the  doctrines,  the  instructions,  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  Scriptures,  which  no  other  method  ever  devised  could 
have  imparted.  They  are  thus,  in  their  knowledge  of  spiritual 
things,  wiser  than  their  teachers  could  have  been  before  this  system 
of  useful  effort  was  estabhshed.  This  is  an  advantage  of  incalculable 
importance.  The  Bible  is  made  to  them  a  familiar  book.  Then 
the  Bible  is  made  to  them  a  book  of  enjoyment.  It  is  surrounded 
in  their  minds  with  the  most  attractive  and  pleasant  associations. 
The  way  in  which  it  has  been  brought  before  them  has  given  to  it  a 
peculiar  charm.  Their  acquirement  of  its  instructions  has  been  en- 
tirely voluntary.  The  connections  of  the  Sunday-school  have  called 
into  exercise  the  kindest  feelings  of  their  nature,  and  chiefly  devel- 
oped the  most  precious  and  purest  affections  of  their  hearts.  There 
is  nothing  gloomy  or  repulsive  connected  with  the  word  of  God  in 
the  associations  of  their  minds. 


4:26  STEPHEN    II.    TYNG. 

"  Then,  under  this  instruction,  children  acquire  a  love  for  the  ordi- 
nances of  public  worship,  the  institutions  of  the  Lord's  house.  They 
have  no  other  associations  than  those  of  pleasure  and  happiness  con- 
nected with  the  religious  services  of  the  sanctuary.  The  Sabbath 
has  not  been  to  them  a  weary  day.  Its  successive  arrival  is  attended 
with  nothing  that  is  repulsive.  They  grow  up  to  the  settled  period 
and  state  of  life  with  the  feeling  of  gladness  in  going  up  to  the  house 
of  the  Lord  more  and  more  deeply  engraven  upon  their  hearts.  They 
have  been  accustomed  to  find,  and  to  look  for,  real  enjojnuent  con- 
nected with  it ;  and  they  expect  it,  even  in  the  maturity  of  life,  with 
no  other  anticipation.  There  has  been  no  cultivation  of  the  dispo- 
sition to  sit  down  with  the  scornfiil,  or  to  unite  with  those  who  scoff 
at  sacred  things.  Now,  who  can  doubt  the  importance  of  this  at- 
tainment ?  Who  can  fail  to  see  how  much  and  how  effectually  it 
prepares  the  way  for  the  subsequent  conversion  of  the  soul,  and  the 
renovation  of  the  character  for  God  ?  "What  benefit,  short  of  the 
actual  spiritual  regeneration  of  them  all,  can  be  greater  or  of  more 
importance  in  its  consequences  to  our  youth,  and  to  our  land,  than 
to  surround  the  blessed  and  life-gi\"ing  ordinances  of  the  Gospel  in 
their  minds  with  attraction  and  pleasure.        *  *  *  * 

"  The  American  Sunday-school  Union  was  never  better  prepared 
to  meet  the  increasing  wants  of  the  country,  or  to  expend  with  ad- 
vantage the  increasing  pecuniary  assistance  of  the  Christian  commu- 
nity, than  now.  Under  the  control  of  business-laymen  alone,  there 
is  no  possible  danger  either  of  ecclesiastical  dominion  or  interference. 
If  it  is  said  to  be  a  mere  book  concern,  let  it  not  be  forgotten  that 
the  only  stockholders  are  the  whole  community  of  Christians,  and 
they  reap  all  the  profit  of  the  establishment.  Let  the  pubhcations 
of  this  Union  be  examined,  let  the  system  upon  which  it  acts  be 
understood,  let  the  results  which  it  has  accomplished  be  weighed, 
and  I  can  hardly  suppose  that  any  Christian  will  come  to  any  other 
conclusion  than  my  own — that,  for  the  special  blessing  of  our  rising 
generation,  it  is  a  precious  gift  of  God  to  our  country,  and  claims 
for  its  enlargement  and  support  the  united  eflbrts  of  Christians  of 
every  name." 

Of  the  great  work  which  Dr.  Tyng  accomplished  in  Philadelphia 


SERMON  TO   CHTLDEEN.  427 

for  Sunday-scliool  instruction  we  shall  not  be  able  to  speak,  but  confine 
our  attention  to  the  schools  of  St.  George's  Church,  of  New  York. 

The  first  marked  feature  of  the  Sunday-school  system  of  this 
Church  is,  that  Dr.  Tyng  preaches  specially  to  the  children  every 
Sunday  afternoon  in  the  church.  These  sermons  are  prepared 
with  care,  but  are  simple,  brief,  illustrative,  and  pertinent  in  appli- 
cation. Many  of  them  belong  to  courses  of  sermons,  one  of  which 
extends  sometimes  through  twenty  Sabbaths.  For  example ;  one 
course  was  on  the  Zoology  of  the  Bible,  in  which  the  animals  of  the 
Bible  were  discussed  as  illustrating  traits  of  character.  Another 
course  was  on  the  Horticulture  and  Botany  of  the  Bible  ;  another 
on  the  Mountains  of  the  Bible ;  another  on  the  Road  to  Zion ;  another 
on  the  Biographies  of  leading  Bible  Characters ;  and  in  these  ser- 
mons, tree,  plant,  mountain,  animal,  man,  were  all  made  the  instru- 
ment of  impressing  some  important  truth  of  rehgious  or  practical 
life.     We  give  an  outline  of  one  sermon  to  children  as  illustrative : 

The  text  is  from  2  Kings,  xix.  30.  "  Shall  yet  again  take  root 
downward,  and  bear  fruit  upward." 

"  In  every  tree  there  are  two  separate  processes  of  growth.  These 
are  here  described.  The  illustration  is  employed  to  exhibit  the 
growth  of  the  remnant  of  the  house  of  Judah.  But  it  may  just  as 
properly  apply  to  the  history  of  the  inner  man,  as  of  the  outer  man. 
It  may  just  as  well  describe  the  whole  work  of  true  religion  in  the 
soul,  as  the  external  prosperity  of  a  nation.  Let  us  so  consider  it. 
Here  are  two  processes  of  growth. 

"  I.  We  may  speak  of  the  figure  employed  in  the  illustration.  The 
Tree.  It  takes  root  downward,  and  bears  fruit  upward.  These  two 
results  differ  and  agree. 

"  1.  They  differ  much.  One  is  secret,  and  cannot  be  exposed.  The 
other  is  open,  visible,  and  manifest.  The  one  is  the  increase  of  real 
inward  strength.  The  other  of  outward  and  apparent  beauty  and 
usefulness.  The  one  increases  under  the  power  of  trial  and  opposi- 
tion. The  more  the  winds  shake  the  tree,  the  stronger  its  root  be- 
comes. The  other  requires  protection  and  care.  Heavy  winds  may 
cause  its  fall.  The  one  is  permanent,  at  aJ  seasons  the  same.  The 
other  is  occasional,  and  has  its  appointed  times. 


4:28  STEPHEN   H.    TYNG. 

"  2.  But  they  also  agree  in  much.  The  same  sap  and  nourishment 
feeds  them  both.  They  partake  of  the  same  life.  They  are  diflfer- 
ent  manifestations  of  the  same  life.  In  the  one,  the  nourishment 
received,  gives  increase  of  strength.  In  the  other,  the  same  nourish- 
ment fui'nishes  increasing  beauty  and  usefulness.  But  whether  vre 
look  at  the  root  or  the  fruit, — it  is  the  same  tree, — and  both  de- 
pend upon  the  same  health  and  vigor  in  its  being  and  growth. 

"  n.  We  may  apply  the  illustration  to  the  life  of  true  religion  in 
the  soul.  And  here  the  root  and  the  fruit  agree  and  differ  just  as 
remarkably. 

"  1.  They  agree  in  much.  The  tree  is  one.  The  work  of  religion 
in  the  soul  is  one  work.  You  can  never  separate  the  root  from  the 
fruit  it  is  to  bear.  The  one  cannot  Hve  without  the  other,  llie 
real  Christian  is  the  same  within  and  without,  in  heart  and  life. 

"  The  ground  is  one.  The  same  soul  of  man  has  both  the  root 
and  the  fruit.  It  is  one  work  of  God  upon  the  soul,  whether  you 
look  at  one  part  of  it,  or  at  another.  Religious  principles  and  re- 
ligious duties,  must  grow  and  live  together  in  the  same  ground. 

"  The  sap  and  nourishment  is  one.  The  same  Holy  Spirit  gives 
life  to  the  soul  within,  and  fruit  in  the  character  >vithout.  It  is 
His  power  which  plants  the  tree, — and  makes  the  root  to  strike 
down,  in  the  experience  of  the  heart  within, — and  then  makes 
it  to  bring  forth  its  fruit,  in  the  hoHness  and  usefulness  of  the  life, 
without 

"  But  the  fruit  is  entirely  dependent  on  the  root,  not  the  root  on 
the  fruit.  There  can  be  no  fruit  on  the  tree  without  a  living  grow- 
ing root.  The  work  of  religion  begins  always  within,  in  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  there.  All  that  is  outward,  is  secondary  and 
grows  from  that. 

"  2.  But  they  differ  also  much.  The  root  is  the  Work  of  the  Spfrit 
in  the  heart.  The  fruit  is  His  work  in  the  life.  A  new  and  con- 
verted heart  is  the  work  of  true  religion.  A  holy,  faithful  life  is  its 
fruit. 

"  This  root  is  secret.  It  cannot  be  seen  or  displayed.  It  grows  in 
its  hidden  process,  deeper  every  day.  It  strikes  more  and  more  into 
the  soul.     It  is  a  deeper  sense  of  sin  in  ourselves.     A  clearer  view 


SERMON   TO   CHILDEEN.  429 

of  the  guilt  of  sin.  A  growing  feeling  of  humility  and  depen- 
dence. More  simple  faith  in  God.  More  real  love  for  His  char- 
acter and  His  law,  and  holy  will.  More  hatred  of  sin  and  desire  for 
hohness.  These  are  the  root.  The  work  of  the  Spirit  in  the  heart. 
More  simple  dependance  on  the  Holy  Spirit.  More  real  love  for  the 
Saviour.  More  desire  for  His  forgiveness  and  acceptance.  These 
grow  downward.  The  heart  is  more  and  more  engaged— we  feel  it— 
we  are  conscious  of  it— we  rejoice  in  it.  But  others  cannot  see  it. 
This  is  the  witness  which  the  Spirit  gives  to  us. 

"  The  fruit  is  open.  The  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  love,  joy,  peace, 
&c.  This  is  the  fulfilment  of  duty  in  every  relation  in  life,  at  home 
and  abroad.  It  is  gentleness,  meekness,  tenderness,  faithfulness. 
Ah !  these  are  blessed  fruits.  They  are  lovely  in  aspect.  Precious 
and  valuable  indeed.  They  grow  upon  the  tree  which  God  has 
planted,  and  which  the  Holy  Spirit  nourishes  in  the  soul. 

"  This  fruit  is  for  others,  not  for  us.  They  gather  it,  and  enjoy  it. 
They  see  it  and  delight  in  it.  We  cannot.  It  makes  the  value  of 
the  tree  in  their  esteem.  We  feel  the  root,  but  cannot  see  the 
fruit.  They  see  the  fruit,  but  cannot  see  the  root  from  which  it 
grows. 

"This  fruit  grows  upward.  God  is  its  motive  and  object.  It  is  to 
honor  and  glorify  Him.  We  are  faithful  to  others  for  His  sake. 
To  please  Him,  we  strive  to  do  them  good.  And  He  accepts  and 
blesses  us. 

"  The  root  must  always  live.  The  fruit  will  not  always  be  borne. 
Sometimes  it  is  winter  for  the  soul.  We  have  discouragements — we 
can  do  nothing — we  seem  to  be  dead.  But  the  root  is  still  ahve. 
The  work  of  the  Spirit  may  be  still  growing  deeper  within.  We 
must  never  despond  or  fear  because  our  apparent  fruit  for  a  season 
is  less.  Let  us  cultivate  the  root  within,  and  watch  around  that. 
Let  us  strengthen  that  every  day.  This  is  our  main  work  in  re- 
ligion. Keep  the  heart  with  all  diligence,  and  life  and  ftiiitfulness 
will  issue  out  of  it." 

2.  Dr.  Tyng  meets  with  his  Sabbath-school  teachers  every  Friday 
evening,  at  which  the  lesson  is  developed  to  them  as  he  wishes  and 
expects  that  it  will  be  taught  to  the  pupils.    He  thus  imbues  the 


430  STEPHEN   H.    TYNG. 

teachers  with  his  views  of  truth,  and  through  them  reaches  every 
child  of  his  congregation. 

3.  On  the  first  Sabbath  afternoon  of  every  month  the  children 
are  gathered  in  the  lecture-room  for  a  missionary  meeting,  with 
special  exercises. 

4.  The  Sabbath-schools  include  not  only  the  children  of  the  con- 
gregation, but  hundreds  gathered  from  among  the  poor  by  eflBcient 
missionary  work. 

5.  The  children  are  stimulated  to  the  highest  effort  for  increasing 
the  Sabbath-school  and  contributing  to  missionary  purposes.  During 
the  last  year  some  children  have  earned,  by  minute  accretions,  as 
large  sums  as  twelve  dollars  for  missionary  purposes,  and  we  know 
of  one  little  girl  who  contributed  twenty  dollars. 

6.  Each  class  has  its  name,  with  its  illustrative  text  of  Scripture 
and  verse  of  poetry.  At  the  end  of  the  year  the  contribution  of 
each  class  is  published  in  a  circular.  From  the  report  of  last  May 
we  extract  the  following  as  specimens : 

TmiEE  Eesoltttions  (Name  of  a  Class), $36.00 

1st.  TVe  will  always  give  something. 
2d.  We  will  give  as  the  Lord  has  enabled  us. 
8d.  "We  will  give  cheerfully. 
Motto — 

"  We  have  resolved  with  grateful  heart, 
In  this  blest  work  to  bear  our  part, 
Our  prayers  and  offerings  gladly  bring 
To  swell  the  triumphs  of  our  King. 

"  Soon  may  the  nations  join  and  sing, 
*  Christ  is  the  Lord,  the  King  of  kings,' 
Echo  the  sound  from  shore  to  shore, 
That '  Jesus  reigns  for  evermore.' " 

IIeber  Association, $26.56 

Motto — "  And  this  I  pray  that  your  love  may  abound  yet  more  and 
more." — Phihppians  i.  9. 

The  Sowebs, $12.00 

Motto — "Let  me  go,  for  the  day  breaketh." — Gen.  xxxii.  26. 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   CLASSES.  431 

"  "Whom  shall  we  send,  and  who 

For  us  will  go  to  spread  the  Saviour's  name, 


"With  glowing  zeal— with  faith,  with  courage  true, 
And  dying  love  proclaim  ? 

"  Servants  of  God,  go  forth. 
From  these  beloved  walls ; 
Go,  preach  his  Gospel  through  the  earth, 
Till  every  idol  falls. 

"  The  holy  fight  maintain 

Till  death ;  with  joyful  trust 
That  ye  shall  wear  the  crown,  and  reign 
Forever  with  the  just!" 

Casket  of  Jewels, $10.00 

Motto — "  They  shall  be  mine  when  I  make  up  my  jewels."— Mai. 
iii.  17. 

Teees  of  Eighteousness, $29.00 

Motto — "  The  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  come  unto  thee,  the  fir-tree,  and 
the  pine-tree,  and  the  box  together,  to  beautify  the  place  of  my  sanc- 
tuary; and  I  will  make  the  place  of  my  feet  glorious." — Isa.  Ix.  13. 

"The  Epiphany," $40.00 

Motto— '-'•  A  light  to  hghten  the  Gentiles."— Luke  ii.  23. 

Loed's  Husbandmen, $38.00 

Motto — "  We  are  laborers  together  with  God." — 1  Cor.  iii.  9. 

"  The  harvest  dawn  is  near. 
The  year  delays  not  long ; 
And  he  who  sows  with  many  a  tear 
Shall  reap  with  many  a  song. 

"  Sad  to  his  toil  he  goes, 

His  seed  with  weeping  leaves ; 
But  he  shall  come  at  twilight's  close, 
And  bring  his  golden  sheaves." 

Speinqs  of  Watee, $82.50 

Motto — "  As  cold  waters  to  a  thirsty  soul,  so  is  good  news  from  a 
far  country."— Prov.  xxv.  25. 


432  STEPHEN    n.    TYNG. 

Lord's  Aemor-Beaeees, $30.00 

Motto — "  Wherefore  take  nnto  you  the  whole  armor  of  God,  that  ye 
may  be  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having  done  all,  to 
stand."— Eph.  vi.  13. 

"  Thomas  Stoem  Missionaey  Society," $15.00 

Motto — A  token  of  respect  to  a  faithful  teacher. 

"  A  faithful  teacher's  name  we  bear, 
And  pray  he  may  hereafter  wear 

A  fadeless  crown  as  his  reward. 
He  shows  US  self-denying  zeal, 
Has  taught  us  others'  wants  to  feel, 

And  with  sweet  texts  our  mind  has  stored." 

CmT.DBEN  OF  Israel, $12.66 

Motto — "  And  the  Lord  spake  nnto  Moses,  saying.  Speak  unto  the 
children  of  Israel  that  they  bring  me  an  offering,  of  every  man  that 
giveth  it  willingly  with  his  heart,  ye  shall  take  my  offering." — Exodus 
XXV.  1,  2. 

The  following  is  the  summary  of  the  report : 

TO  THE  TEA0HEE9  AND  SCHOLARS  OF  THE  SUNDAY-SCHOOLS   OP 

ST.  George's  chitrch. 

My  Dear  Friends  and  Children :  We  have  finished  our  Sixth  Anni- 
versary with  great  delight.  The  rain  prevented  the  attendance  of  many 
of  our  Scholars.  Yet  the  Church  was  completely  crowded  with  our 
schools  and  friends.  Our  schools  are  now  larger  than  ever  before. 
The  school  at  the  Church  has  57  Teachers  and  1163  Scholars,  makmg 
1220.  And  the  Mission-school  has  33  Teachers  and  433  Scholars, 
making  90  Teachers  and  1596  Scholars.  Total  number  of  Teachers  and 
Scholars,  1686.  We  have  never  had  so  pleasant  and  animated  an 
Anniversary  before. 

Last  year  I  reported  to  you  our  whole  mission  sum  collected  as 
$573.30 ;  and  the  fund  then  in  the  hands  of  the  Committee  for  Foreign 
Missions,  $1494.11.  Our  school  then  resolved  to  raise  for  the  year  now 
concluded,  One  TJwumyid  Dollars.  We  brought  all  our  gifts  together 
at  the  Anniversary,  and  they  have  amounted  to  Om  Thousand  Eight 
Hundred  and  Twenty-Jive  Dollars.    I  have  paid  this  sura,  of  which 


ST.  George's  church.  433 

twelve  hundred  dollars  was  in  gold  pieces,  to  the  Treasurer  of  the 
Foreign  Committee.  And  now  we  have  in  the  hands  of  the  Committee, 
"to  be  hereafter  appropriated  according  to  your  wish,"  Three  Thousand 
Three  Sundred  and  Nineteen  Dollars.  I  now  give  you  a  report  of  the 
names  and  contributions  of  our  various  Missionary  Societies.  Let  us 
be  thankful  for  what  the  Lord  enablea  us  to  do.  How  many  poor 
heathen  children  may  we  bless  and  save !  We  shall  get  enough  together 
in  a  few  years,  to  build,  and  then  to  support,  some  School  or  Orphan 
Asylum  by  ourselves.  Let  us  set  out  again,  and  work  another  year 
with  energy  and  united  love  and  zeal,  and  the  Lord  will  bless  us. 

To  these  sums  we  have  to  add  $113.44,  from  our  monthly  Missionary 
collections,  and  $100,  which  was  collected  at  the  Anniversary. 

I  shall  hope  to  be  much  more  with  you,  if  the  Lord  shall  permit,  in 
the  year  to  come.  Until  some  new  Superintendent  shall  be  given  to  us, 
I  shall  take  charge  of  the  School  at  the  Church  myself. 

And  now,  my  dear  children,  may  the  Lord  bless  you  and  keep  you. 
May  He  make  you  His  own  children  and  servants.  May  He  make  you 
a  blessing  to  many.  Try  to  love  and  serve  Him.  Remember,  they 
who  seek  Him  early  shall  surely  find  Him.  And  they  who  find  Him, 
want  no  good  thing. 

Your  affectionate  Pastor  and  faithful  Friend, 

STEPHEN  H.  TYNG. 
St.  Geoege's  Eeotory,  ISTew  Yoek,  May  1,  1855. 

Such  are  the  statistics  of  the  Sunday-schools  of  St.  George's 
Church.  Sixteen  hundred  pupils,  nearly  one  hundred  teachers,  and 
one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  given  to  the 
cause  of  Foreign  Missions  in  one  year !  It  is  an  example  to  be 
considered. 


ST.  George's  church. 

At  the  opening  of  this  sketch,  we  spoke  of  Dr.  Tyng  as  the  im- 
personation of  extreme  "  Low-Church"  sentiments.  Yet  he  should 
not  be  regarded  as  a  representative  of  any  portion  of  the  Episcopal 
Church.  He  is  not  so  esteemed  by  churchmen,  he  does  not  so 
esteem  himself.  K  he  be  the  representative  of  any  Church,  it  is 
of  St.  George's  Church.     And  this  part  of  our  description  cannot 

28 


434  STKPIIKN    II.    TYNG. 

be  better  presented  than  in  his  own  words.  On  the  15th  of  April, 
1855,  Dr.  Tyng  preached  a  discourse  at  the  tenth  Anniversary  oi 
his  connection  with  St.  George's  Church,  from  which  we  extract 
largely.  The  text  was,  "  God  hath  not  given  us  the  spirit  of  fear, 
but  of  power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind."  After  stating 
the  qualifications  of  the  minister,  he  proceeded  to  say — 

"  ^\^lether  such  a  spirit  has  characterized  my  ten  years'  ministry 
among  you,  my  beloved  friends,  you  must  judge  for  yourselves. 
That  it  ought  to  have  distinguished  it,  I  am  bound  to  maintain.  I 
have  freely  devoted  to  you,  probably,  the  best  ten  years  of  my  life. 
I  am  honestly  conscious  of  having  labored  among  you  as  earnestly 
and  as  assiduously  as  I  have  had  strength  to  bear.  I  have  habitually 
done  this  one  thing,  instant  and  unrelaxing  in  the  work  appointed 
me  here.  The  pleasures  of  literature,  the  indulgences  of  general 
society,  and  even  the  occupations  of  mind  which  might  have  been 
made,  in  a  degree,  kindred  to  my  ministry  in  the  Gospel,  I  have 
cheerfully  renounced,  for  the  single  purpose  of  giving  my  w^hole 
time  and  strength  to  you,  and  taking  heed  to  my  ministry  to  fulfil 
it.  That  I  may  be  justly  charged  with  many  infirmities  and  errors 
in  my  work  and  walk  among  you,  is  beyond  a  doubt.  But  no  man 
can  charge  me  with  eating  any  man's  bread  for  naught,  or  watli 
lording  it  over  God's  heritage,  or  with  taking  heed  to  the  flock  for 
filthy  lucre's  sake.  I  speak  this  in  no  vain-glorious  boasting.  And 
I  shall  make  no  apology  for  giving  you  a  simple  and  concise  ac- 
count of  my  ten  years'  ministry  among  you,  however  personal  its 
allusions  and  details  may  appear.  "Whether  its  results  and  course 
indicate  the  spirit  of  power,  and  of  a  sound  mind,  I  leave  you  and 
others  at  perfect  liberty  to  judge. 

"  I  would  first  survey  the  history  of  our  outward  relation  for  the 
past  ten  years.  It  was  an  unexpected  and  singular  providence  which 
brought  me  here.  For  sixteen  years  before,  I  had  ministered  in 
Philadelphia ;  for  the  last  twelve  of  those  among  a  flock  where  I 
never  heard  one  syllable  of  reproach  or  dissatisfaction,  and  among 
whom,  growing  up  around  me,  as  children  around  a  father,  I  never 
saw  one  single  instance  of  division,  nor  ever  heard,  on  any  occasion, 
the  language  of  discord.     I  said  I  should  die  in  my  nest.     Not  the 


ST.  geokge's  chukch.  435 

remotest  thought  of  my  removal  from  them,  as  my  own  possible 
act,  ever  came  to  my  mind ;  and  never  was  such  a  removal  more 
undesirable  or  more  unlikely  than  when  at  last  I  was  led  to  make 
it.  The  little,  but  important  circumstances  which  made  up  that 
chain  of  manifest  providence  and  obligation,  I  have  not  time  to  relate. 

"  The  chief  inducement  which  finally  led  me  here  was  the  pro- 
posed opportunity  of  vastly  extended  influence  and  usefulness  in  my 
Master's  cause,  in  this  new  field  of  labor,  which  we  have  now  occu- 
pied for  the  six  years  past.  The  proposal  for  such  a  work  had  been 
made  by  my  venerated  predecessor,  Dr.  Milnor,  before  his  death. 
Had  he  hved,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  carried  out  the  plan  in 
some  shape.  And  because  I  considered  hun,  and  not  myself,  the 
author  of  this  scheme,  which  God  has  so  prospered,  I  desired  his 
monument  should  stand  here,  as  it  does  stand,  as  a  witness  to  others 
long  after  I  am  gone. 

"  I  had  been  here  nearly  a  year  before  all  the  diflSculties  in  the 
way  of  this  enterprise,  and  the  various  preparatory  considerations 
which  must  be  regarded,  were  sufficiently  removed  to  enable  the 
Vestry  actually  to  undertake  the  work.  In  March,  1846,  they  de- 
termined to  build ;  and,  on  the  23d  of  June,  the  corner-stone  of  this 
majestic  temple  was  laid.  On  the  19th  of  November,  1848,  we 
opened  this  edifice  for  public  worship.  The  success  which  has 
crowned  the  undertaking  has  amply  vindicated  the  spirit  of  power, 
of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind,  of  those  who  so  boldly  undertook  it. 
I  need  not  refer  to  the  difficulties  through  which  the  Vestry  were 
compelled  to  force  their  way  in  the  accomphshment  of  the  work 
they  had  assumed.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  features 
of  the  history,  was  the  providence  by  which  internal  dissensions  in 
the  congregation,  and  outward  hostility  from  others,  in  whose  hands 
there  was  power  to  annoy,  were  made  to  arrest  the  premature  sale  of 
property  of  the  corporation,  and  to  tie  it  up,  until  such  a  change  in 
its  value  as  should  fully  relieve  our  obligations,  had  taken  place. 
The  opposition  was  meant  for  evil ;  God  was  pleased  to  oveiTule  it 
for  remarkable  good.  In  the  mean  time,  he  gave  to  one  faithful 
friend  of  the  Church  the  ability  and  the  will  to  meet  the  whole 
responsibility.     And  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that,  to  his  disin- 


436  STKPIIEN    II.    TYNG. 

teresled  energy  and  noble  conception  of  Christian  duty,  this  Church 
is  wholly  indebted  for  the  edifice  in  which  we  now  worship.  The 
subsequent  appreciation  of  the  property  of  the  Church,  and  the 
complete  overcoming  of  all  the  obstacles  which  were  placed  in  the 
wav  of  its  successful  sale,  enabled  the  Vestry  to  meet  all  the  obli- 
gations which  he  assumed.  But  the  prospect  of  such  a  result,  at 
tlie  time  when  this  burden  was  undertaken  by  him,  the  most  pru- 
dent men  would  have  been  ready  to  think  the  least  probable. 
Thus  has  God  prospered  our  outward  relations,  that  we  have  now 
the  church,  the  chapel,  and  the  rectory,  the  clear  and  unincumbered 
property  of  the  corporation.  The  completion  of  the  spires,  ac- 
cording to  the  original  plan,  is  now  under  contract  and  in  progress, 
to  be  perfected  within  two  years.  For  this,  abundant  and  safe  pro- 
\-ision  has  been  made. 

"  "We  may  now  turn  to  consider  the  pecuniary  consideration  of 
this  corporation  during  the  ten  years  past.  When  I  became  the 
rector  of  this  Church,  ten  years  since,  the  property  of  the  corpora- 
tion consisted  of  the  church  and  rectory  in  Beekman-street,  and  of 
thirty  house  lots,  received  from  Trinity  Church,  in  the  original  en- 
dowment of  St.  George's,  a  part  of  that  parish,  as  an  independent 
Church.  From  these  two  sources  the  income  of  the  corporation 
was  derived.  The  whole  pew-rent  of  the  church,  the  year  previous 
to  my  settlement,  was  less  than  fifteen  hundred  dollars.  The  in- 
come from  the  rents  of  the  thirty  lots  was  $5105.  The  debts  of 
the  corporation  were  about  $20,000,  making  the  whole  net  income 
of  the  church  less  than  $5500.  The  value  of  these  lots  were  esti- 
mated by  a  committee  of  the  Vestry  at  that  time  at  from  $180,000 
to  $200,000.  With  these  means  at  their  command,  the  Vestry 
entered  upon  the  work  of  this  edifice.  The  lot  on  which  the 
church  itself  here  stands  was  the  donation  of  Peter  G.  Stu3nresant ; 
and  made  by  no  means  more  to  improve  the  value  of  his  large 
surrounding  property,  than  to  manifest  his  own  deep  interest  in  the 
evangelical  principles  on  which  St.  George's  was  well  known  to  stand. 
The  residue  of  the  ground  we  occupy  was  subsequently  purchased 
from  his  heirs,  at  a  cost  of  $10,000.  Upon  this  ground  the  Vestry 
have  expended  upon  the  church  and  its  furniture,  about  $228,000 


ST.  geokge's  chuech.  437 

Upon  tlie  chapel  and  Sunday-school  rooms,  about  $11,000.  Upon 
the  rectory,  about  $21,000,  making  in  all  about  $260,000.  Of  this 
amount  every  dollar  has  been  paid.  The  additional  cost  of  the 
spires  will  be  $45,000 ;  to  which  the  bells  and  clock  may  be  cal- 
culated as  adding  $10,000  more,  making,  in  the  whole  investment 
in  this  enterprise,  when  completed,  $325,000.  For  the  contracted 
cost  of  the  spires,  provision  has  already  been  made  in  a  lot  of  land 
valued  at  $20,000,  reserved,  and  in  an  assigned  excess  of  their 
annual  income  for  a  few  years  to  come.  And  now,  at  the  present 
period,  the  possessions  of  the  corporation  are,  this  whole  property 
here,  with  its  permanently  completed  edifices,  and  more  than 
$100,000  in  value  of  their  original  endowment  still  remaining  in 
their  hands.  Against  this  they  have  no  debts,  and  from  this  no 
interest  or  incumbrance  to  deduct.  The  present  net  clear  income 
of  this  corporation  is  $10,500  from  the  pew-rents,  and  $5835  from 
their  endowment,  making  $16,335,  entirely  clear  of  all  exterior  de- 
mands ;  from  the  annual  excess  of  which  over  their  expenditures, 
together  with  the  reserved  lot  already  referred  to,  the  perfect  com- 
pletion of  their  great  undertaking  is  seen  to  be  easily  anticipated 
and  entirely  secure.  The  fixed  action  of  the  Vestry,  settled  since 
March,  1851,  has  been,  not  to  reduce  the  principal  of  their  endow- 
ment, exclusive  of  the  church  and  buildings  in  connection  with  it, 
below  the  sum  of  $100,000,  but  to  finish  all  that  remains  of  their 
work  from  means  exclusive  of  this.  And  this  may  be  now  con- 
sidered, therefore,  the  fixed  and  established  property  of  this  cor- 
poration." 

The  sermon  proceeds  to  give  the  religious  history  of  the  ten  years, 
and  closes  with  humble  acknowledgment  of  God's  guidance  and 
goodness.  The  contributions  of  the  Church  to  benevolent  societies 
are  found  to  amount  to  $77,095,  during  the  ten  years. 

The  following  biographical  statement  is  copied  from  the  United 
States  Ecclesiastical  Portrait  Gallery.     It  is  authentic : 

"  The  Eev.  Stephen  Higginson  Tyng,  D.  D.,  was  born  in  New- 
buryport,  Massachusetts,  March  1st,  1800.  He  was  the  second  son 
of  the  Hon.  Dudley  Atkins  Tyng,  a  distinguished  lawyer  of  that 
State,  who  married  a  daughter  of  the  Hon.  Stephen  Higginson,  of 


438  STEPHEN    H.   TYNG. 

Boston,  a  member  of  the  Convention  whicli  framed  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States.  He  was  entered  at  Harvard  University 
in  1813,  and  graduated  in  181 7.  Ha\'ing  no  particular  taste  for 
either  of  the  learned  professions,  he  entered  upon  a  merchant's  life 
with  most  encouraging  prospects  of  worldly  success.  But  in  1819, 
it  pleased  God  to  call  him  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  His  course 
of  theological  studies  was  pursued  at  Bristol,  R.  I.,  under  the  supervis- 
ion and  direction  of  Bishop  Griswold.  It  was  during  Mr.  Tyng's 
residence  in  Bristol,  that  a  very  remarkable  revival  of  religion  oc- 
curred in  that  place,  commencing  with  St.  Michael's  congregation, 
and  extending  through  the  town. 

"  Mr.  Tyng  was  ordained  a  Beacon  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  at  Bristol,  on  the  4th  of  March,  1821.  After  his  ordina- 
tion he  removed  to  the  South,  and  was  settled  the  1st  of  May,  the 
same  year  of  his  ordination,  as  the  minister  of  St.  John's  Church, 
Georgetown,  D.  C.  There  he  remained  for  two  years,  zealously 
occupied  in  the  discharge  of  ministerial  duty,  and  not  without 
witnessing  fruits  of  his  labor.  A  wider  field  opened  before  him, 
and  he  accepted  an  in\dtation  to  Queen  Ann  Parish,  Prince  George's 
county,  Maryland.  This  was  a  delightful  country  abode,  and  furnished 
not  only  opportunities  of  improving  labor  in  the  best  classes  of  so- 
ciety, but  also  the  means  of  preparation  for  future  and  more  exten- 
sive influence  in  the  Church.  It  also  opened  extensive  opportunities 
for  missionary  service,  there  being  many  districts  in  that  and  the 
neighboring  parishes,  especially  in  Virginia,  where  the  scattered 
population  seldom  enjoyed  opportunities  for  public  worship  in  their 
vicinity.  It  was  the  custom  of  Mr.  Tyng,  in  addition  to  his  ordinary 
duties,  to  make  extensive  preaching  tours  in  order  to  meet  these 
wants.  On  one  of  these  tours  he  travelled  four  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  on  horseback,  in  fourteen  days,  and  during  this  period  he 
preached  seventeen  times. 

"  After  laboring  six  years  in  Prince  George's  county,  he  was  in- 
vited to  become  the  rector  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Philadelphia.  He 
took  charge  of  that  church  in  May,  1829.  Perhaps  no  church  in 
Philadelphia  has  ever  exhibited  such  thronged  audiences,  as  did  St. 
Paul's  from  1830  up  to  the  time  of  the  resignation  of  its  then 


BIOGRAPHY.  439 

rector.  It  was  not  the  tinsel  glitter  of  a  decorated  style,  nor  the 
attractive  graces  of  a  superior  elocution,  nor  the  charms  of  a  novelty 
that  perishes  in  its  earliest  efflorescence  which  drew  those  crowds, 
but  the  solemn,  thrilling  exhibition  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel  set  forth  with  the  fervor  and  earnestness  of  one  who  pos- 
sessed a  vigorous  and  powerful  mind,  who  had  made  an  entire 
consecration  of  himself  to  the  Master  he  served,  and  who  uniformly 
preached  as  though  heaven  and  hell,  the  judgment-seat  and  eternity, 
werd  unveiled  and  directly  before  him.  For  about  two  years  he 
held  a  daily  six  o'clock  morning  meeting  in  the  vestry-room  ;  and 
during  the  whole  period  of  his  ministry  at  St.  Paul's  preached 
regularly  three  times  each  Sunday,  besides  attending  to  his  weekly 
Lecture,  and  making  addresses  for  every  benevolent  society  through- 
out the  city  that  asked  his  services. 

"  It  was  during  his  ministry  at  St.  Paul's,  and  at  the  annual  com- 
mencement of  Jefferson  College  in  1832,  that  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  was  conferred  upon  him  by  that  institution.  What- 
ever mistakes  have  been  made  by  our  literary  institutions  of  late 
years,  in  the  lavish  conferring  of  this  degree,  if  sound  learning,  ac- 
curate scholarship,  extensive  theological  acquirements,  vigorous 
intellect,  and  very  superior  pulpit  powers,  with  great  devotion  to 
the  work  of  the  ministry,  constitute  legitimate  grounds  for  the  be- 
stowment  of  this  honor,  it  was  not  injudiciously  conferred  in  the 
present  instance. 

"Dr.  Tyng  continued  his  labors  at  St.  Paul's  until  October,  1833, 
when  he  was  elected  rector  of  the  Church  of  the  Epiphany.  In  the 
spring  of  1845  he  came  to  New  York." 

Dr.  Tyng  has  been  twice  married.  His  first  wife  was  the  daughter 
of  Bishop  Griswold,  by  whom  he  had  four  children.  His  present 
wife  was  Miss  Mitchell,  of  Philadelphia,  who  is  the  mother  of  five 
children.  His  oldest  son.  Rev.  Dudley  Atkins  Tyng,  is  rector  of 
"  The  Church  of  the  Epiphany  "  in  Philadelphia,  probably  ranking 
next  to  "  St.  George's  "  in  the  number  of  communicants  and  general 
efficiency. 

Besides  the  labors  involved  in  the  ministrations  to  such  a  large 
church,  and  the  oversiorht  of  such  a  Sabbath-school — labors  which 


440  STEPHEN   H.   TTNG. 

we  have  not  attempted  to  depict,  and  which  can  only  be  realized  by 
experience,  Dr.  Tyng  has  written  much  for  the  press.  He  is  a  volu- 
minous pamphleteer ;  he  is  one  of  the  editors  of  "  The  Protestant 
Churchman,"  and  a  generous  contributor  to  its  columns ;  and  he 
has  published  several  volumes ; — "  The  Israel  of  God ;"  "  Lectures 
on  the  Law  and  the  Gospel ;"  "  Christ  is  All ;"  "  Christian  Titles,"  is- 
sued by  the  Carters;  and  "The  Rich  Kinsman,"  just  published  by  the 
same  house,  and  republished  in  England  ;  "  Fellowship  with  Christ ;" 
a  volume  on  Confirmation,  containing  Prayers  for  Sabbath-schools ; 
•^  Life  of  Dr.  Bedell ;"  "Life  of  E.  J.  P.  Messenger,  Missionary  to  Afri- 
(3a ;"  and  "Recollections  of  England."  He  is,  besides,  the  main  agent 
in  the  Foreign  Committee  of  the  Board  of  Missions,  a  prominent 
member  in  the  Board  of  Managers  of  the  American  Bible  Society, 
and  one  of  the  most  efficient  officers  of  the  Pastoral  Aid  Society. 


CRITICISM. 


Dr.  Tyng  came  to  New  York,  known  as  a  leading  member  of  the 
Low-Church  party,  to  become  the  spiritual  guide  of  a  congregation 
also  known  as  thoroughly  Low  Church ;  and  appropriately  took  an 
early  occasion  to  avow  bis  faith  and  to  propose  his  plan  of  ministry. 
He  proclaimed  his  adhesion  to  the  right  and  the  privilege  of  extem- 
pore prayer ;  declaring  that  he  should  maintain  the  right  always, 
and  use  the  privilege  whenever  he  thought  best,  even  to  the  occa- 
sional and  partial  dispensing  of  the  prayer-book. 

His  views  on  this  subject  are  sufficiently  revealed  in  the  following^ 
extract  from  his  work  entitled  "  Recollections  of  England :" 

"  Wherever,  in  England,  I  met  with  faithful,  pious  brethren,  I 
found  them  men  of  prayer.  The  prayers  on  all  these  occasions 
were  uniformly  extemporaneous."  And  he  adds:  "How  destruc- 
tive to  the  influence  of  true  piety  among  us,  and  to  the  actual  in- 
crease of  the  power  of  the  Gospel,  would  be  the  success  of  their  en- 
deavors, who  would  shut  from  us  the  use  of  extemporaneous  prayer ! 
The  converted  soul  must  pray :  and  although  our  liturgy,  for  the 
purposes  of  strictly  public  worship,  for  which  it  is  designed,  is  unri- 


CEincisM.  441 

vailed,  and  all  that  we  want,  it  does  not,  and  cannot,  answer  the 
purpose  of  many  other  occasions,  when  we  need  prayers  most  spe- 
cial and  adapted.  The  attempt  to  make  it  the  only  vehicle  of 
united  prayers  is  the  inevitable  result  of  a  formal  spirit,  and  the 
parent  of  this  spirit  in  others." 

Thus  holding  opinions  differing  so  widely  from  those  embraced 
in  the  "  Tracts  for  the  Times,"  earnest,  zealous,  bold,  and  indepen- 
dent in  their  promulgation,  regarding  facts  rather  than  forms,  the 
spirit  of  the  law  rather  than  the  letter,  the  living  body  rather  than 
the  superficial  clothes,  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  has  become  so 
mighty  a  champion  of  one  portion  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  as  to 
be,  to  some  extent  at  least,  obnoxious  to  the  other  portion.  Hence 
it  is  important  that  allowance  should  be  made  for  the  eulogies  of 
friends  and  the  disparagement  of  foes,  by  those  who  found  their 
judgments  of  the  man  on  mere  report.  Since  his  "  defining  of  po- 
sition," he  has  had  frequent  occasion  to  endorse  it  by  public  acts. 
On  the  test  question,  at  the  trial  of  Bishop  Onderdonk,  he  was 
found  on  the  side  where  all  expected  to  find  him  ;  and  not  only  on 
a  question  of  Church  government  and  discipline,  but  also  in  teach- 
ing and  preaching,  he  is  the  same  uncompromising  foe  to  the  mon- 
archy of  forms. 

There  is  an  earnestness  in  Dr.  Tyng's  pulpit  ministrations  which 
testifies  that  their  warmth  results  from  no  artificial  heat.  His  ser- 
mons are  not,  like  some,  warmed  into  life  by  friction  between  the 
conscience  of  the  speaker  and  the  necessity  of  his  position,  both,  per- 
haps, hard  enough.  He  does  not  preach  because  he  has  "  taken 
orders ;"  but  he  has  taken  orders  that  he  might  preach.  He  uses  a 
form,  without  being  formal ;  employs  a  liturgy  in  prayer,  without  be- 
coming liturgical  in  preaching ;  wears  a  surplice  without  being  precise ; 
reads  the  daily  lessons  without  a  tone ;  admires  the  common  prayer- 
book  without  adoring  it,  tendering  his  love  without  his  worship.  Dr. 
Tyng  has  withstood  the  influence  of  forms,  because  he  possesses  the 
spiritual  life  which  spurns  formality,  and  the  strong  and  nervous 
intellect  which  brooks  no  hampers.  It  is  with  the  inner  world  of 
man  as  with  the  outward  world  of  nature.  It  is  the  burning  coal 
upon  which  no  ashes  rests.     It  is  the  torrent  starting  from  the  liv- 


442  STEPHEN    H.    TTXG. 

ing  spring,  whicli  is  never  icebound.  Hence,  depending  on  individ- 
ual and  inward  growth,  ordinary  subjects  reveal  beneatli  his  touch 
manifold  relations.  Let  him  direct  his  creative  intellect  towards 
the  most  barren  subject,  and  it  teems  with  life  and  beauty ;  as  be- 
neath the  warm  spring  sun,  myriads  of  blades  of  grass  and  gorgeous 
flowers  start  forth  from  the  winter-browned  fields. 

His  mind  is  under  control.  Pycroft  compares  his  mind  to  his 
dog,  in  its  proneness  to  wander,  and  says :  "  There  is  a  way  to  make 
my  dog  obey,  change  his  wandering  nature,  doivn^  when  I  say, 
down,  and  pass  without  a  glance  every  thing  but  the  game  I  choose 
to  hunt."  Dr.  Tyng  has  well  succeeded  in  that  which  Pycroft  desired. 
And  still  there  is  a  point  of  excellence  unattained  by  him.  He  some- 
times loses  sight  of  the  logical  order.  He  does  not  give  over  the  pur- 
suit of  his  subject,  but  "gets  on  the  wrong  scent."  Still  his  mind  is  well 
trained ;  it  "  passes  every  thing  but  the  game  he  chooses  to  hunt." 

Dr.  Tyng's  style  is  close,  and  no  objectionable  superfluity  is  coun- 
tenanced ;  still  there  is  some  luxuriance,  but  it  is  the  luxuriance  of 
a  well-trimmed  hedge,  rather  than  of  a  South  American  jungle. 
His  sentences  are  methodical  in  their  construction,  and  rounded  in 
their  completion.  In  this  finish  of  execution  he  excels  Mr.  Beecher, 
with  whom  he  often  comes  in  contrast  at  public  meetings.  He  has 
more  refinement,  a  higher  polish,  and  better  grace,  and  yet  is  not  as 
forcible,  to  a  certain  order  of  mind,  which  enjoys  the  manifold  efflo- 
rescence of  genius  more  than  the  fruits  of  talent.  Beecher  is  the 
child  of  natiu-e,  Tyng  the  pride  of  art. 

Dr.  Tyng  moves  the  feelings,  but  not  by  a  graphic  description, 
affecting  representation,  or  thrilling  word,  but  by  the  forcible  repre- 
sentation of  truth,  illustrated,  if  at  all,  by  metaphor  rather  than  by 
description.  The  truth  he  has  in  hand  he  turns  round  and  round, 
inside  and  out.  Instead  of  bringing  the  strong  lights  of  illustration 
to  bear  upon  it,  he  takes  it  to  pieces  and  passes  it  around  to  his 
hearers. 

In  his  complete,  well-formed  sentences,  and  accurate  choice  of 
words,  nay,  in  the  grand  style  in  which  he  rolls  them  out,  there  is 
something  truly  Ciceronian  about  Dr.  Tyng  ;  while  the  speeches  of 
Mr.  Beecher,  with  their  shoit  sentences,  pointed  words,  and  popular 


CRITICISM.  ^^^ 


appeals  are  Demostlienic.    Both  have  emotion  in  the  pulpit,  with- 
out grossly  discovering  it.    Dr.  Tyng  has  his  feelings,  like  his  mind 
under  stern  control.     We  have  seen  him  stand  for  a  moment,  silent 
and  statue-like,  a  tear  starting  from  his  eye,  and  then  go  on  with  a 
voice  as  clear  and  ringing  as  before.    His  manner  is  described  to  a 
great  extent  by  reference  to  his  style.    It  is  not  always  that  the 
style  and  thought  and  manner  all  harmonize  as  they  do  m  the  case 
of  Dr  Tyng.     There  is  the  same  precision  and  accuracy;  the  same 
force  "and  energy;  the  same  boldness  and  independence  in  each. 
He  pronounces  each  word  by  itself,  distinctly  and  heavily,  so  that 
his  voice  reminds  of  the  regular  beat  of  a  cannon-baU  in  descending 
a  flight  of  stairs.    He  is  erect,  dignified,  and  rather  stately  m  his 
public  appearance,  speaks  with  quite  enough  fire  and  fervor,  gestures 
earnestly,  emphasizes  decidedly,  has  a  flashing  eye  and  a  clear  voice. 
Both  in  style  and  manner  he  frequently  reminds  one  of  a  man  on 
trial      He  defends  himself,  justifies  his  own  acts,  not  directly,  to  be 
sure,  but  impliedly.     One  feels  that  he  has  been  receiving  anony- 
mous letters,  condemning  some  speech;  or  the  advice  of  some  kind 
friend  hinting  at  a  better,  more  prudent,  more  politic  course ;  which, 
cominc  to  a  man  with  a  path  marked  out,  and  a  resolve  to  follow 
it  serve  but  to  irritate  and  wound.     He  never  dodges  responsibility 
or  affects  modesty  by  using  the  pronoun  «  we,"  when  he  means  "  I. 
In  fact  the  "I"  is  slightly  prominent  throughout  his  discourses,  not 
painfully  so,  perhaps  not  excessively  so;  but  still  one  is  not  apt  to 
lose  sight  of  the  man  in  the  interest  of  the  subject.     The  truth  was 
deeply  interesting,  but  Dr.  Tyng  presented  it.  _ 

But  it  is  on  the  platform  that  Dr.  Tyng  best  proclaims  discipline 
of  mind,  power  of  language,  and  oratorical  talent.  There  is  the 
same  precision,  the  same  finish,  completeness,  force,  and  logical 
order  in  his  Extempore  as  in  his  written  addresses.  Never  at  a  loss 
for  a  word,  and  the  right  word  too,  he  talks  on  with  the  steady  flow 
of  an  unfailing  fountain.  In  fact,  he  extemporizes  with  such  perfec- 
tion, with  such  rounding  of  periods  and  finish  of  sentences,  that  one 
is  apt  to  suspect  previous  preparation,  and  ascribe  success  to  a  won- 
derful memory;  but  those  who  kmow  any  thing  about  it,  know  that 
when  he  pretends  to  speak  extemporaneously  he  is  doing  so.    There 


4:44  STEPHEN   H.    TYXG. 

is  no  sham  about  it.  Perhaps  he  never  was  more  eloquent  and 
impressive  in  his  life,  and  never  clothed  his  thoughts  in  more  beauti- 
ful or  forcible  language,  than  on  the  occasion  of  an  Anniversary  in 
Broadway  Tabernacle,  when  he  was  called  upon  to  speak  until 
another  gentleman,  appointed  for  the  occasion,  should  arrive.  He 
ipoke  ten  minutes  admirably,  fully  developed  his  thought,  and  would 
have  sat  down ;  but  the  expected  speaker  had  not  come ;  the 
audience  insisted  on  his  proceeding;  and  another  ten  minutes  he 
poured  out  a  strain  of  still  more  impassioned  eloquence.  Still  there 
was  no  arrival,  cries  of  "  go  on,"  "  go  on,"  again  prevailed,  and  he 
started  forvs'ard  on  "  the  third  heat,"  bearing  away  the  hearts  of  all  in 
their  admiration  of  his  burning  words ;  eclipsing  in  his  last  effort 
all  previous  displays,  and  accomplishing,  in  that  most  diflBcult  task 
of  "speaking  against  time,"  the  greatest  feat  of  platform  oratory. 
No,  this  "  smell  of  the  lamp "  is  not  the  result  of  special  studied 
preparation,  but  of  that  preparation  which  has  been  going  on 
through  a  lifetime  of  study ;  at  the  academy,  the  college,  the  semi- 
nary, in  professional  life. 

He  has,  to  be  sure,  a  wonderful  memory,  which  not  only  brings 
whatever  word  at  his  bidding,  but  contributes  anecdote,  quotation, 
and  fact  in  abundant  and  apt  manner.  As  an  illustration  of  its 
power,  we  may  mention,  that  it  is  not  uncommon  for  him  to  read 
the  chapter  at  family  prayers  without  opening  the  Bible  ;  and  he 
often,  at  church,  at  the  close  of  the  sermon,  gives  out  the  hymn,  and 
recites  the  first  verse,  while  searching  for  the  place.  But  his  mem- 
ory is  not  used,  in  extempore,  to  recall  special  sentences  prepared 
for  the  occasion.  He  carries  also  fewer  notes  to  his  pulpit  than  any 
preacher  described  in  our  collection,  except  Mr.  Milburn.  We  pre- 
sume he  has  not  preached  ten  written  sermons  during  the  last  ten 
years  ;  and  even  including  those  written  for  publication,  which  be- 
long to  the  department  of  authorship,  and  not  of  oratory,  we  ven- 
ture to  say,  that  during  a  ministry  of  thirty-five  years,  in  each  one 
of  which  he  has  probably  preached  two  hundred  times,  he  has  not 
written  more  than  five  hundred  sermons.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to 
hear  him  extemporize,  for  one  is  never  made  nervous  from  fear  of  fail- 
ure.   The  hearer  feels  assured  that  the  right  thing  will  be  presented 


CRITICISM.  445 

in  the  right  way;  and  the  only  disappointment  is  in  the  result 
being  greater  than  expectation. 

Dr.  Tyng  is  indeed  a  strong  man — strong  in  mind,  strong  in  self- 
control,  strong  in  feeling,  strong  in  will ;  and,  finally,  he  is  a  man 
who  makes  strong  friends  and  strong  enemies.  Indeed  this  cannot 
be  otherwise  with  a  man  of  decided  character.  Strength,  coupled 
with  independence,  is  destined  to  opposition.  It  is  diflScult  often- 
times to  decide  when  this  is  deserved,  and  when  it  is  not.  More- 
over, Dr.  Tyng  is  impetuous.  In  the  excitement  of  public  speak- 
ing, impelled  on  by  the  interest  of  the  subject,  the  applause  of  a 
delighted  audience,  and  an  ambition  to  please,  he  is  induced  to 
make  sweeping  assertions.  For  example,  we  heard  him  use  these 
words  in  a  public  meeting,  held  in  the  New  York  Tabernacle :  "  I 
believe  a  Church  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  collection  of  sanctified 
individuals  united  together  for  the  good  of  mankind."  He  may, 
in  calm  moments,  subscribe  to  this,  and  he  may  not.  This  impul- 
sive character  is  of  itself  fruitful  of  opposition.  Moreover,  we  are 
inclined  to  think  that  he  likes  battling ;  and  many  a  man  honored 
in  the  Church  has  liked  battling  before  him.  Luther  relished  it : 
he  would  go  to  Worms,  though  there  were  as  many  devils  there 
as  tiles  on  the  houses.  Paul,  too,  did  not  object  to  making  a 
sturdy  resistance  when  principle  was  concerned;  and  the  great 
Head  of  the  Church  himself,  told  his  disciples  that  He  came  into 
the  world  "  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword."  It  is  doubtful  whether 
a  man  of  sterling  principle  can  go  through  the  world  without  some 
battling.  There  are  "  foes  without  and  foes  within ;"  and  he  is  to 
be  congratulated  who  can  get  some  comfort  out  of  the  operation. 

But  his  prominent  fault  comes  from  his  energy  of  will.  He  is  im- 
perious and  exacting.  He  at  times  forgets  politeness  in  the  mastery 
of  purpose.  As  a  soldier,  he  would  throw  himself  into  the  "  imminent 
deadly  breach ;"  as  a  member  of  the  English  House  of  Commons,  he 
would  be  in  the  opposition ;  as  a  politician,  he  would  lead  his  party ; 
as  a  statesman,  he  would  be  a  ruling  spirit  on  the  floor  of  the  Sen- 
ate ;  as  a  churchman,  he  stands  where — all  know  he  does.  He  is 
considered  by  the  High-Church  party  radical  and  schismatical ;  by 
the  Low-Church,  the  defender  of  Church  purity  and  principles.    He 


446  STEPHEN    H.    TYNCr. 

is  a  man  who,  in  times  of  national  revolution,  would  come  upon  the 
surface  of  the  troubled  waters  to  guide  and  sway.  The  people  would 
yield  to  his  determined  will,  shout  ix)  his  eloquence,  and  glory  in  his 
talents.  At  the  close  of  a  life  full  of  work,  excitement,  contention, 
and  responsibility,  he  may  repeat,  with  peculiar  emphasis,  the  words 
of  the  great  Christian  champion  of  old — "  I  have  fought  a  good 
Jir^hty 


EVANGELICAL  CATHOLICITY. 

Some  account  has  been  given  of  the  interesting  movement  to- 
wards a  reunion  of  the  Evangelical  and  Unitarian  Congregational- 
ists.  We  regard  this  as  one  indication  of  a  tendency  among  Chris- 
tians to  multiply  points  of  agreement  rather  than  points  of  dif- 
ference, towards  that  fusion  of  conflicting  elements  into  one  or- 
ganized body,  the  Church,  under  one  Head,  the  Lord  Christ ;  to 
which  the  eye  of  Christian  faith  looks  hopefully.  Among  other 
indications  of  the  same  tendency  we  include  the  movement  of  the 
Methodists  to  secure  an  educated  ministry ;  and  of  other  denomi- 
nations to  appropriate  the  advantages  peculiar  to  lay  and  to  extem- 
pore preaching ;  the  movements  of  the  Presbyterians,  Reformed 
Dutch,  and  Congregationalists,  towards  the  adoption  of  forms  of 
w  orship ;  and,  finally,  the  movements  of  the  Episcopalians  towards 
a  relaxing  of  their  liturgical  system.  As  Dr.  Tyng  says :  "  It  is  a 
significant  circumstance,  that  while  our  Church  is  discussing  the 
propriety  of  liturgical  relaxation,  some  of  the  other  Churches  are 
expressing  their  sense  of  the  need  of  a  fixed  ritual  of  worship. 
While  we  are  asking  for  gates,  they  are  crying  out  for  fences.  It 
is  a  proof  of  the  increasing  unity  of  sentiment  and  feeling  among 
Evangelical  Christians.  Scripture  Protestantism  is  becoming  every 
year  more  perceptibly  and  organically  one.  Love  is  fusing  and 
clarifying  an  opaque  sand-heap  into  a  crystal  globe.  May  the 
blessed  Spirit  carry  on  the  good  work,  until  we  all  come  into  the 
unity  of  the  faith  !" 

Of  the  Methodist  movement  in  one  direction,  and  that  of  other 


EVANGELICAL    CATHOLICITY.  447 

denominations  in  the  opposite,  enough  has  been  said.  The  Congre- 
gationalist  tendency  to  a  liturgy  has  been  noted  in  the  sketch  of  Dr. 
Storrs.  At  the  head  of  the  Reformed  Dutch  movement,  in  the  same 
direction,  stands  Dr.  Bethune ;  at  the  head  of  the  German  Reformed 
movement  stands  Dr.  Schaff.  It  is  evidenced  in  the  efforts  for  a  revi- 
sion of  their  liturgies  by  committees  of  the  Synods.  In  the  Churcli 
of  Scotland  Dr.  Cunningham  is  strongly  committed  to  the  liturgical 
scheme.  The  "  Princeton  Review,"  the  organ  of  the  Old  School 
Presbyterian  Church,  in  the  July  number  of  1855,  publishes  an 
article  advocating  the  preparation  of  a  book  of  Common  Prayer 
for  the  Presbyterian  Church,  to  be  optional,  and  not  authoritative  in 
its  use.  And  it  enumerates  among  the  advantages;  1st.  "It  would 
be  a  great  assistance  to  those  who  are  not  specially  favored  with 
the  gift  of  prayer,  and  thus  tend  to  elevate  and  improve  this  im- 
portant part  of  public  worship ;"  and,  secondly,  it  would  supply  a 
form  for  the  thousands  of  occasions  where  religious  services  are  es- 
sential and  no  clergyman  is  present.     And  the  article  adds : 

"  It  is  a  very  common  impression  that  any  attempt  to  construct  a 
Book  of  Common  Prayer  would  be  playing  into  the  hands  of  the 
Episcopalians.  First,  because  it  would  imply  a  concession  in  favor 
of  liturgies ;  secondly,  because  no  book  which  could  now  be  framed 
would  be  likely  to  compare  favorably  with  the  English  Prayer- 
book  ;  and  thirdly,  because  it  would  be  mipossible  to  give  to  any 
new  book  the  authority  of  sacredness,  which  ages  have  conferred 
upon  that.  We  cannot  believe  that  any  thing  which  would  really 
improve  our  public  service  could  operate  unfavorably  to  the  inter- 
ests of  our  Church.  There  would  be  no  concession  to  Episcopal 
usages,  even  if  Presbyterians  should  return  to  the  custom  of  their 
forefathers,  and  introduce  a  liturgy  into  all  their  churches." 

In  the  last  year  has  also  been  pubhshed,  "  Eutaxia,  or  the  Presby- 
terian Liturgies ;  by  a  minister  of  the  Presbyterian  Church"— a 
book  which  has  excited  a  good  deal  of  discussion— in  which  the 
author  seeks  to  demonstrate,  by  historical  proofs,  1st,  That  the 
principles  of  Presbyterianism  in  nowise  conflict  with  the  discretion- 
ary use  of  written  forms ;  and  secondly,  that  the  practice  of  Presby- 
terian Churches  abundantly  warrants  the  adoption  and  use  of  such 


448  STEPHEN   H.    TYNG. 

forms.  Some  months  ago,  also,  more  than  one  of  the  Unitarian 
periodicals,  particularly  the  Christian  Inquirer,  of  New  York,  con- 
tained able  articles  on  liturgical  forms,  in  favor  of  the  expediency 
of  employing  them  as  guides  and  aids  in  public  religious  semces. 
We  may  also  add,  as  another  indication,  that  St.  Peter's  Church 
(Presbyterian),  of  Rochester,  New  York,  has  the  last  year  adopted 
"  The  Church  Book,"  as  it  is  called,  containing  "  The  Order  for  Public 
Worship,  the  Order  of  Administering  Baptism,  the  Order  of  publicly 
receiving  Baptized  Persons,  the  Order  of  Administering  the  Lord's 
Supper,  the  Marriage  Service,  the  Funeral  Service,  Morning  and 
Evening  Prayers  for  Families,  a  Psalter,  the  Nicene  and  Athanasian 
Creeds,  and  Psalms  and  Hymns,  with  Tunes  for  Congregational 
Singing." 

But  the  tendency  of  Episcopalians  in  the  opposite  direction  is 
more  remarkable ;  and  of  this  we  present  a  brief  history,  without 
presuming  on  a  thorough  discussion. 

At  the  General  Convention  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church, 
held  in  October,  1853,  the  following  memorial  was  presented : 

To  the  Bishox>s  of  the   Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in   Council 
Assembled : 

Right  Reverend  Fathers  : 

The  undersigned,  presbyters  of  the  Church  of  which  you  have 
the  oversight,  venture  to  approach  your  venerable  body  with  an 
expression  of  sentiment,  which  their  estimate  of  your  office  in 
relation  to  the  times  does  not  permit  them  to  withhold.  In  so 
doing,  they  have  confidence  in  your  readiness  to  appreciate  their 
motives  and  their  aims.  The  actual  posture  of  our  Church  with 
reference  to  the  great  moral  and  social  necessities  of  the  day,  pre- 
sents to  the  mind  of  the  undersigned  a  subject  of  grave  and  anxious 
thought.  Did  they  suppose  that  this  was  confined  to  themselves, 
they  would  not  feel  warranted  in  submitting  it  to  your  attention ; 
but  they  believe  it  to  be  participated  in  by  many  of  their  brethren, 
who  may  not  have  seen  the  expediency  of  declaring  their  views,  or 
at  least  a  mature  season  for  such  a  course. 


MEMORIAL    OF   DK.  MUHLENBERG   AND   OTHERS.  449 

The  divided  and  distracted  state  of  our  American  Protestant 
Christianity,  the  new  and  subtle  forms  of  unbelief  adapting  them- 
selves with  fatal  success  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  the  consolidated 
forces  of  Romanism  bearing  with  renewed  skill  and  activity  against 
the  Protestant  faith,  and  as  more  or  less  the  consequence  of  these, 
the  utter  ignorance  of  the  Gospel  among  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
lower  classes  of  our  population,  making  a  heathen  world  in  our 
midst,  are  among  the  considerations  which  induce  your  memorialists 
to  present  the  inquiry  whether  the  period  has  not  arrived  for  the 
adoption  of  measm'es,  to  meet  these  exigencies  of  the  times,  more 
comprehensive  than  any  yet  provided  for  by  our  present  ecclesiasti- 
cal system:  in  other  words,  whether  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  with  only  her  present  canonical  means  and  appliances,  her 
fixed  and  invariable  modes  of  public  worship,  and  her  traditional 
customs  and  usages,  is  competent  to  the  work  of  preaching  and 
dispensing  the  Gospel  to  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  and  so 
adequate  to  do  the  work  of  the  Lord  in  this  land  and  in  this 
age  ?  This  question,  your  petitioners,  for  their  own  part,  and  in 
•onsonance  with  many  thoughtful  minds  among  u»3,  believe  must  be 
answered  in  the  negative.  Their  memorial  proceeds  on  the  assump- 
tion that  our  Church,  confined  to  the  exercise  of  her  present  system, 
is  not  sufiicient  to  the  great  purposes  above  mentioned — that  a  wider 
door  must  be  opened  for  admission  to  the  Gospel  ministry,  than  that 
through  which  her  candidates  for  holy  orders  are  now  obliged  to 
enter.  Besides  such  candidates  among  her  own  members,  it  is  be- 
lieved that  men  can  be  found  among  the  other  bodies  of  Christians 
around  us,  who  would  gladly  receive  ordination  at  yom*  hands,  could 
they  obtain  it,  without  that  entire  surrender  which  would  now  be 
required  of  them,  of  all  the  liberty  in  public  worship  to  which  they 
have  been  accustomed — men,  who  could  not  bring  themselves  to 
conform  in  all  particulars  to  our  prescriptions  and  customs,  but  yet 
sound  in  the  faith,  and  who,  having  the  gifts  of  preachers  and 
pastors,  would  be  able  ministers  of  the  New  Testament.  With 
deference  it  is  asked,  ought  such  an  accession  to  your  means,  in 
executing  your  high  commission,  "  Go  into  all  the  world  and 
preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature,"  to  be  refused,  for  the  sake  of 

29 


450  STEPHEN    n.    TYXG. 

conformity  in  matters  recognized  in  the  preface  to  the  Book  of  Com- 
mon Prayer  as  unessentials  ?  Dare  we  pray  the  Lord  of  the  harvest, 
to  send  forth  laborers  into  the  harvest,  while  we  reject  all  laborers 
but  those  of  one  peculiar  type  ?  The  extension  of  ordei^s  to  the 
class  of  men  contemplated  (with  whatever  safeguards,  not  infringing 
on  evangehcal  freedom,  which  your  wisdom  might  deem  expedient) 
appears  to  your  petitioners  to  be  a  subject  supremely  worthy  of 
your  deliberations. 

In  addition  to  the  prospect  of  the  immediate  good  which  would 
thus  be  opened,  an  important  step  would  be  taken  towards  the 
effecting  of  a  Church  unity  in  the  Protestant  Christendom  of  our 
land.  To  become  a  central  bond  of  union  among  Christians,  who, 
though  differing  in  name,  yet  hold  to  one  Faith,  the  one  Lord,  and 
the  one  Baptism,  and  who  need  only  such  a  bond  to  be  drawn 
together  in  closer  and  more  primitive  fellowship,  is  here  believed 
to  be  the  peculiar  province  and  high  privilege  of  your  venerable 
body  as  a  College  of  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Bishops  as  such. 

This  leads  your  petitioners  to  declare  the  ultimate  design  of  their 
memorial — which  is  to  submit  the  practicability,  under  your  au- 
spices, of  some  ecclesiastical  system,  broader  and  more  comprehen- 
sive than  that  which  you  now  administer,  surrounding  and  in- 
cluding the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  as  it  now  is,  leaving  that 
Church  untouched,  identical  with  that  Church  in  all  its  great 
principles,  yet  providing  for  as  much  freedom  in  opinion,  dis- 
cipline, and  worship,  as  is  compatible  with  the  essential  faith  and 
order  of  the  Gospel.  To  define  and  act  upon  such  a  system,  it  is 
believed,  must  sooner  or  later  be  the  work  of  an  American  Catholic 
Episcopate. 

In  justice  to  themselves  on  this  occasion,  your  memorialists  beg 
leave  to  remark  that,  although  aware  that  the  foregoing  views  are 
not  confined  to  their  own  small  number,  they  have  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  any  other  parties  contemplate  a  public  expression  of 
them,  like  the  present.  Having  therefore  undertaken  it,  they  trust 
that  they  have  not  laid  themselves  open  to  the  charge  of  un- 
warranted intrusion.  They  find  their  warrant  in  the  prayer  now 
offered  up  by  all  our  congregations,  "  that  the  comfortable  Gospel 


"questions  for  consideration."  451 

of  Christ  may  be  truly  preached,  truly  received,  and  truly  followed, 
in  all  places,  to  the  breaking  down  of  the  kingdom  of  Sin,  Satan, 
and  Death."  Convinced  that,  for  the  attainment  of  these  blessed 
ends,  there  must  be  some  greater  concert  of  action  among  Protestant 
Christians  than  any  which  yet  exists,  and  believing  that  with  you. 
Right  Reverend  Fathers,  it  rests  to  take  the  first  measures  tending 
thereto,  your  petitioners  could  not  do  less  than  humbly  submit  their 
memorial  to  such  consideration  as  in  your  wisdom  you  may  see  fit 
to  give  it.  Praying  that  it  may  not  be  dismissed  without  reference 
to  a  Commission,  and  assuring  you.  Right  Reverend  Fathers,  of  our 
dutiful  veneration  and  esteem, 

We  are,  most  respectfully, 

your  brethren  and  servants  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 
W.  A.  Muhlenberg,  C.  F.  Cruse, 

Philip  Berry,  Edwin  Harwood, 

G.  T.  Bedell,  Henry  Gregory, 

Alex.  H.  Vinton,  M.  A.  De  Wolfe  Howe, 

S.  H.  Turner,  S.  R.  Johnson, 

C.  W.  Andrews,  F.  E.  Lawrence, 

and  others. 
New  Yobk,  October  14th,  1853. 

This  memorial  deserves  to  be  noted  in  several  particulars.  1st, 
As  indicating  a  sense  of  inadequacy  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  people.  2d,  As  suggesting  two 
modes  of  relief,  the  relaxing  of  the  constraints  of  a  Ritual,  and  the 
extension  of  the  privileges  of  ordination.  3d,  As  not  definite  in  its 
expression,  but  suggestive.  4th,  As  signed  by  both  High  and  Low^ 
Churchmen.  And,  lastly,  as  successful,  in  that  the  object  of  the 
memoriahsts  was  gained,  through  its  reference  to  a  Commission,  by 
an  almost  unanimous  vote ;  the  four  voting  in  the  negative  being 
two  extreme  High  Churchmen,  and  two  extreme  Low  Churchmen. 

The  memorial  was  followed  by  an  elaborative  "  exposition"  from 
Dr.  Muhlenberg,  of  which  we  shall  speak  in  another  place. 

The  Commission,  to  whom  was  referred  the  memorial,  presented  a 
list  of  questions  for  consideration.     Among  which  w^ere,  "  Ought 


i52  STLPIIEN    JI.    TYNG. 

we  or  ought  we  not  to  have  itinerating  evangelists  as  well  as  settled 
pastors  ?"  "  Could  changes  be  advantageously  made  in  our  liturgi- 
cal services  ?"  "  Ought  the  conditions  now  imposed  on  candidates 
who  have  been  licensed  or  ordained  in  the  Protestant  communions 
to  be  relaxed  ?"  &c.,  &c.  To  these,  various  replies  have  been  re- 
ceived and  some  published.  Among  them  was  one  entitled  "  A 
Few  Thoughts  on  the  Duties,  Difficulties,  and  Relations  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  by  Catholicus,"  in  which  the  leading 
points  are:  "It  is  a  disastrous  error  to  suppose  that  the  clergy  are  the 
only  religious  instructors  of  mankind."  "The  efficiency  of  the 
clergy  would  be  promoted  by  any  thing  that  shall  lead  them  to 
acquire  some  knowledge  of  the  practical  part  of  their  profession, 
while  studying  its  theory."  "  They  should  be  free  to  exercise  any 
gifts  which  they  possess  in  extemporaneous  preaching,  and  in  ex- 
temporaneous prayers."  "  The  Sunday-morning  services  of  the 
Church  are  much  too  protracted."  "  It  is  obvious  that  the  framers 
of  the  ser\dce  expected  and  intended  extempore  prayer.  This  is 
the  only  hypothesis  upon  which  the  service,  with  its  want  of  variety, 
and  its  remarkable  omissions  can  be  explained." 

Another  reply  more  recently  pubhshed,  written  by  Rev.  Edward 
A.  Washburn,  of  St.  John's  Church,  Ilartford,  presents  the  whole 
matter  in  a  form  adapted  to  our  purpose.  He  begins  by  saying 
that  "  this  memorial  is  no  work  of  individual  fancy  or  party  radi- 
calism; it  comes  from  many,  nominally  of  diflferent  sides  in  our 
communion,  and  utters  a  common  conviction ;"  and  "  that  our  chief 
need  at  this  day  is  to  ascertain  what  we  mean  by  the  Church 
system,  its  laws  of  life  and  processes  of  growth,  in  their  bearing  on 
such  a  movement." 

The  writer  proposes  "  to  consider  the  work  of  a  Church  calling 
itself  a  branch  of  the  Catholic  Church  of  Christ  in  America ;  and  to 
compare  with  this  the  position  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  body, 
and  seek  to  prove  thence  its  want  and  its  duty." 

His  first  premise  is,  that  "  it  is  the  essential  principle  of  the  Holy 
Catholic  Church  that  it  is  built  on  no  fragment  of  doctrine  or  in- 
stitution, but  embraces  in  its  large  fellowship  all  who  are  receivers 
of  the  simple  Catholic  faith,  and  baptized  into  its  body." 


EEPLY    OF    REV.    EDWARD  A.    WASHBURN.  453 

"  As  sncli  a  Cliiirch,  complete  in  tlieory,  it  ouglit  to  be,  therefore, 
above  all  bodies  of  men  called  Christian,  most  complete  in  its  ac- 
tion. It  should  have,  here  in  our  America,  as  throughout  all  the 
world,  an  organic  growth ;  as  a  communion,  not  for  one  class  of 
men,  not  for  one  section  of  the  country,  but  for  all ;  it  should  be  in 
its  spirit  and  methods,  as  w^ell  as  in  its  claims,  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  this  continent." 

This  organic  growth, he  aflBrms,  "involves  a  ceviam changeless  unity ^ 
and  again  a  certain  manifoldness  of  action.  As  we  hold  both,  and 
know  the  relation  of  each  to  the  other,  we  are  severed  on  one  side 
from  a  false  conservatism,  and  on  the  other  from  a  false  radicalism. 
As  such,  it  has  a  spiritual  principle  :  it  is  '  Jesus  Christ,  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever.'  And  this  is  the  soul  of  its  Catho- 
licity, as  the  Gospel  of  redemption  .to  the  universal  heart.  But,  as 
such,  it  has  also  a  hody^  the  organic  form  of  its  life — existing  in 
certain  authoritative,  perpetual  truths  and  institutions.  Its  land- 
marks are,  the  Holy  Sacraments,  the  two  centres  of  all  Christian 
communions ;  the  Ministry  its  living  order ;  the  Faith,  as  embodied 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  statute-book  of  all  time ;  and  in  those 
creeds  of  the  Apostles  and  Nice,  which  are,  above  all  formularies, 
the  voice  of  the  whole  Church. 

"  But  while  Catholic  Christianity  is  thus  essentially  the  same  in 
any  and  all  ages,  its  unity  of  life  is  put  forth  according  to  the  rela- 
tions of  the  time  and  the  social  world  in  which  it  dwells.  We  afiBrm 
that  manifoldness  of  action  is  necessary  to  the  Church.  We  do 
not  use  here  the  word  development ;  for  while  the  term  is  innocent 
and  significant,  yet  in  the  hands  of  Newman  on  one  side,  and 
Rationalists  on  the  other,  it  has  gotten  an  ill-omened  and  suspicious 
sound.  Words  are  nothing,  if  we  can  have  things.  The  essential 
unity  of  the  Church,  then,  we  affirm,  can  never  imply  uniformity  of 
method ;  nay,  such  uniformity  is  the  surest  sign  that  no  life  exists, 
as  a  hundred  stone  pillars  may  be  built  the  same  in  stature  and 
proportion,  but  a  hundred  trees  are  each  specifically  unlike." 

He  goes  on  to  say:  "We  sometimes  forget,  in  our  zeal  for  pre- 
serving intact  the  apostolic  three-fold  system,  that  the  system  had 
its  origin  in  the  wants  of  the  Church  of  that  very  time.    We  talk 


4:54:  STEPHEN    H.    TYXG. 

of  bishop,  presbyter,  and  deacon,  as  if  these  orders  were  cast-iron 
mechanism ;  as  if,  because  we  keep  them,  we  can  therefore  have  no 
more.  It  is  thus  again,  as  history  fully  shows,  that  a  cultus,  or  litur- 
gical worship  arises  as  a  natural  outgrowth.  At  first  Christian  men 
worshipped  with  no  written  form,  but  only  the  interpreted  word, 
and  the  sacraments  with  a  few  very  simple  formulae  orally  rej^eated  : 
from  these  sprang  the  various  liturgies,  alike  in  essential  unity  of 
ideas  and  some  common  expressions,  yet  all  differing  in  detail ;  and 
as  such  came  from  the  mind  and  heart  of  believers,  there  grew  a 
ritual  of  Alexandria,  of  Antioch,  of  Rome,  of  Gaul,  and  the  rest. 

"  A  church  creates,  of  necessity,  a  liturgy,  but  that  liturgy  is  not 
inspired,  primitive,  absolute,  or  unchangeable ;  it  may  be  wise  to  keep 
it,  dangerous  to  change  it ;  it  may  be  bound  up  with  the  afi"ections 
and  devotional  wants  of  men,  but  it  is  very  useless  to  rest  it  on  a 
ground  so  unreasonable.  Our  only  true  position  can  be  that  such 
a  system  must  have  a  living  growth,  and  a  living  adaptation  to  a 
people. 

'•  If,  then,  we  have  settled  these  principles,  we  may  at  once  apply 
them  to  the  work  of  the  Church  in  America.  It  is  indeed  alto- 
gether a  new  phenomenon  in  Christendom ;  for  as  there  was  from 
the  first  no  national  Church,  like  those  of  England  and  France,  born 
with  the  dawn,  and  growing  with  the  growth  of  civilization,  so  this 
country  has  no  established  Christianity.  All  sects  and  systems  are 
left  to  work  in  their  own  way.  That  worship  which  we  hold  dear 
is  an  exotic,  transplanted  from  English  soil,  but  never  thoroughly 
grafted  into  the  wild  stock  of  American  character.  But  if  any 
Christian  faith  gain  a  national  power,  it  must  have  a  national 
growth ;  it  must  so  far  admit  the  action  of  a  living  principle  as  to 
give  it  a  proper  adaptation  to  American  needs ;  and  to  this  end  it 
must,  in  its  early  stages,  amidst  a  population  wholly  indifierent  to 
the  forms  of  England,  or  Rome,  or  any  other,  fall  back  as  far  as 
possible  on  essentials,  and  make  its  methods  flexible.  We  can  as 
soon  build  a  York  Minster  in  a  Western  clearing,  as  make  the  mass 
of  American  society  accept  a  finished  Anglican  worship.  There 
should  be,  first,  an  adaptation  of  the  ministry  to  the  people.  A  set- 
tled parochial  clergy  must  be,  of  course,  the  chief  reliance ;  but 


REPLY   OF   EEV.   EDWARD   A.   WASHBURN.  455 

there  should  be,  besides  these,  an  order  fitted  by  a  proper  culture  to 
minister  to  the  multitude,  not  trained  in  the  Church  system.  It  is 
wanted  directly  around  us  for  labor  in  half-organized  parishes,  or 
among  the  ignorant  and  poor  who  cannot  be  now  reached.  It  is 
wanted  for  missionary  work ;  and  when  we  say  this  we  do  not  mean, 
as  too  many  imagine,  some  httle  suburban  province  of  church  action. 
For  a  century  to  come  our  main  labor  in  this  continent  is  emphati- 
cally of  the  missionary  character ;  our  country  is  the  valley  of  the 
West,  and  the  broad  fields  now  opening  before  us  to  the  Pacific. 
Such  a  class  may  be  created  without  detriment  to  learning  or  regu- 
lar order ;  and  to  suppose  otherwise  is  as  absurd  as  to  say  that  an 
araiy  is  spoiled  by  the  organization  of  a  corps  of  light  infantry.  We 
want  both  a  highly  educated  clergy  and  a  clergy  for  the  people ;  and 
instead  of  lowering  the  standard,  we  exalt  it  by  a  right  division  of 
labor.  Its  influence  will  be  a  living  one,  to  carry  the  Church  into 
the  heart  of  society.  Thus  Wesley  preached,  and  began  a  work 
which  the  Mother  Chm'ch,  in  her  cold  narrowness,  would  not  appre- 
ciate, but  hardened  her  heart  against  him,  and  forced  thousands, 
who  might  have  been  loving  children,  into  separatists.  But,  next, 
there  should  be  an  adaptation  of  worship  to  the  same  necessity. 
The  very  notion  of  one  rigid  ritual  for  every  class,  drilled  in  its  use 
from  infancy,  or  utterly  unaccustomed  to  it,  is  an  absurdity.  Such 
modifications  should  be,  and  may  be,  consistent  with  the  keeping 
always  of  the  essential  features  of  the  liturgy,  with  soberness  and 
good  taste ;  the  self-same  service  will  remain  for  the  trained  church- 
man ;  but  the  vast  class  without  the  Church,  from  whom  she  must 
have  her  recruits,  should  see  and  hear  her  in  her  Catholicity.  She 
must  show  her  willingness  and  capacity  to  meet  their  wants,  to  use 
every  mode  consistent  with  essential  unity :  she  must  make  manifest 
her  living,  active,  and  generous  spirit. 

"  We  come  now  to  the  second  topic  of  our  essay.  Is  the  Protes- 
tant Episcopal  Church  of  the  United  States  such  a  body,  and  so 
fitted  to  Christianize  this  continent  ? 

"  We  answer,  that  it  is  so  in  its  theory,  but  not  in  its  practical 
workings,  and  we  shall  here  seek  to  unfold  the  fact  and  its  causes. 

"  Instead  of  a  Church  Catholic,  it  is  not  to  be  mistaken  that  we 


456  STEPHEN   U.    TYNG. 

are  in  position  a  sect.  It  is  true  that  we  are  among  the  most  re- 
spectable of  Christian  bodies  in  education,  refinement,  wealth,  and 
piety.  Our  growth  has  been  considerable ;  our  moderate  doctrine, 
free  from  theological  heat;  our  broad  communion,  our  attractive 
ritual,  Protestant,  yet  without  the  bareness  of  New  England  wor- 
ship; our  dignified  and  sober  character,  our  conservative  tone 
amidst  the  whirl  of  religious  and  social  reforms,  have  given  us  great 
influence.  But  our  growth  has  been,  and  is,  of  a  special  character, 
mainly  by  secession  from  radical  bodies,  of  men  affrighted  by  the 
influx  of  unchecked  opinion  or  wild  piety ;  men  of  conservative  feel- 
ings and  good  taste.  This  is  all  well,  and,  to  a  certain  degree,  may 
be  said  to  show  the  influence  of  the  truths  we  possess  over  one-sided 
sectarianism.  But  in  another  and  much  more  frequent  sense,  we 
have  won  those  who  care  not  a  rush  for  the  Church,  but  who  find 
in  her  liturgy  and  sober  ways  a  comfortable  refuge.  It  is  for  them 
a  pleasant  Hotel  des  Invalides.  Our  system  does  not  reach  the  mass 
of  the  American  middle  classes.  We  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that 
it  excludes  them  altogether,  but  that  a  comparatively  small  portion 
of  them  enter  its  communion.  Methodist  and  Baptist  take  hold  of 
such  classes,  but  we  do  not.  Can  the  fact  be  denied  ?  We  chal- 
lenge the  proofs ;  we  challenge  any  to  go  through  the  parishes  of 
our  communion  in  city  and  country,  and  reckon  the  proportion. 
Where  we  have  become  a  church  for  such  classes,  it  is  because  cer- 
tain new  features,  the  first-fruits  of  the  harvest  which  we  would  more 
fully  reap,  e.  g.^  the  free-church  system,  have  been  introduced.  To 
the  vast  multitude  of  the  people  w^e  are  a  Church  of  England,  not  of 
America ;  an  exotic,  not  an  indigenous  and  native  Christianity ;  a 
church  of  rigid  and  foreign  ceremonies.  But  if  it  even  be  allowed 
that  our  influence  is  equal  to  that  of  the  sects  about  us,  which  we 
by  no  means  grant,  the  very  allowance  is  the  most  feeble  argument. 
If  we  be  a  Cathohc  Church,  we  should  not  be  content  with  this ;  we 
should  '  do  more  than  others ;'  we  should  meet  eveiy  class.  As  it 
is,  we  stand  virtually  on  the  same  platform  with  the  Presbyterian,  a 
church  for  the  upper  ranks ;  wealthy,  decent,  "svith  our  peculiar  ex- 
clusive distinctions,  not  Catholic  attractions ;  a  little  less  rigid  than 
they  in  theology  and  social  habits,  a  little  more  so  in  worship ;  in 


REPLY    OF    RKY.    KDV/ARD    A.    WASHBURN.  457 

fact,  held  by  the  world  as  in  a  kind  of  unstable  equilibrium  between 
Calvinist  and  Unitarian.  There  are  enough  who  talk  of  'the 
Church ;'  but  to  call  it  so  in  any  practical  sense,  as  having  such  a 
position  or  influence  over  American  character,  is  simply  absurd. 
Even  in  comparison  with  Rome,  we  have  far  less  practical  efficiency  : 
her  system  acts  with  a  vigor  we  cannot  have  on  the  poor  and  half- 
educated  ;  and  men  begin  to  fear  that  she  may  be  *  the  Church'  of 
America,  while  they  have  no  fear  whatever  about  us.  Here,  indeed, 
in  the  East  and  Middle  States,  we  do  not  so  fully  feel  the  want,  since 
our  long  establishment,  our  wealth  and  social  resources,  satisfy  us ;  but 
in  the  Valley  of  the  West,  and  the  larger  part  of  our  vast  continent, 
it  is  a  patent  fact.  It  is  very  easy  for  our  complacent  churchmen 
to  shut  their  eyes,  and  say,  '  We  are  going  on  very  fairly  as  we  are  : 
we  need  nothing  better.'  The  signs  of  the  times  cannot  be  mis- 
taken ;  the  Memorial  does  not  fabricate,  but  speaks  a  profound  con- 
\dction  of  many  of  every  party.  The  movements  in  convention  for  a 
new  order  of  deacons,  the  confessed  dearth  of  clergy,  the  demand 
for  special  missionary  work,  are  proofs  that  the  need  exists  and  is 
felt.  It  cannot  be  laughed  down,  or  frowned  down,  or  put  out  of 
sight,  by  any  who,  like  the  old  Aristotelian,  will  not  look  into  the 
telescope  for  fear  he  may  see. 

"  What  then,  we  ask,  is  the  cause  of  the  fact  ?  We  shall  not  fear 
whatever  the  distaste  of  any  to  the  statement,  to  say  that  the  chief 
cause  is  the  uncatholic  practical  working  of  our  Church.  We 
freely  acknowledge  all  other  partial  and  possible  causes.  True, 
America  is  a  vast  country,  and  Christian  work  hard  and  slow ;  noi- 
can  we  '  put  a  girdle  round  the  globe  in  forty  minutes ;'  true,  there 
is  a  spirit  of  lawless  unbelief  abroad  at  this  day ;  true,  there  is  n 
false  prejudice  against  our  Church  from  the  surrounding  bodies. 
But  with  all  this,  we  affirm  that  the  large  share  of  the  evil  lies  with 
ourselves ;  and  a  glance  at  our  history  will  show  the  ground  of  our 
charge.  We  were  a  colonial  daughter  of  England  when  as  yet  no 
American  nation  was  born;  and  that  original  type  has  never 
changed ;  but  while  Presbyterian  and  Puritan  have  adapted  them- 
selves to  the  nation,  we  have  been,  and  are,  a  stereotype  copy  of 
England  still.     Let  us  not  be  misconceived  in  this  remark.     We 


458  STEPHEN    n.    TTNG. 

have  no  ultra- American  prejudice  against  England;  with  her  we 
are  bound  by  ties  that  can  never  be  broken ;  -sve  love  her  faith  and 
communion,  and  most  unfilial  were  the  heart  that  would  not  honor 
such  a  mother ;  but  we  are  not  the  Church  of  England ;  we  are  the 
Church  of  Christ  in  America.  Our  fault  has  been  that  we  have 
forgotten  this.  We  have  been  an  English  establishment  merely ; 
we  have  repeated  her  imperfections  as  well  as  her  excellences,  her 
habits,  her  local  characteristics,  her  parties.  Many  are  content  to  be 
a  high  and  dry  church  of  very  respectable  Christians,  distinguished 
from  the  Presbyterian  by  the  absence  of  extempore  prayers,  of  revi- 
vals,  and  lamps  for  evening  service ;  from  Methodists  by  a  sober 
liturgy  that  regulates  the  *  Amen,*  and  the  fashion  of  written  dis- 
courses. Or,  on  the  other  side,  they  are  a  wealthier  class  of  Evan- 
gelical Christians,  abominating  Tractarianism,  and  preaching  'justi- 
fication by  faith,'  but  not  soiling  their  skirts  by  descending  to  their 
vulgar  brethren,  who  hold  the  same  '  doctrines  of  grace,'  but  not 
'  our  scriptural  and  venerable  liturgy,'  our  '  chaste  and  dignified 
worship.'  This  feehng  is  embalmed  in  our  practical  system.  We 
have  a  noble  clergy  of  scholars  and  gentlemen,  and  we  want  them  ; 
but  we  have  none  save  of  one  training ;  here  and  there  a  Wesley, 
but  no  class  of  Wesleys.  They  are  all  honorable  men  at  their  ser- 
mon manufacture  and  parochial  routine,  but  all  scholarly  gospellers. 
We  have  a  diaconate,  but  it  does  not  deacons'  work ;  it  aims  only  to 
*  purchase  to  itself  a  good  degree'  in  a  twelvemonth.  We  want  the 
preachers  and  priests  of  the  people.  Nay,  it  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  facts  in  this  connection,  that  little  fruit  has  come  of  the 
late  canon  for  an  order  of  working  deacons;  scarce  any  will  join 
the  number.  It  has  been  alleged,  as  proof,  by  our  stifi"  conserva- 
tives of  the  extreme  right,  that  they  are  not  wanted ;  but  to  us  it 
proves  the  very  opposite,  that  there  is  a  lethargic  feeling  prevalent 
which  makes  void  even  wise  means.  Our  worship,  again,  repeats 
the  same  monotone.  We  cannot  too  highly  reverence  the  liturgy 
as  a  monument  of  English  devotion,  free  from  Roman  follies,  and  a 
bulwark  against  sectarian  license ;  but  we  affirm  plainly,  that  as  a 
system  for  all  occasions,  and  for  every  congregation,  it  is  far  too 
rigid  and  inflexible.     We  are  fully  aware  that  we  risk  the  censure  of 


REPLY    OF   KEY.    EDWARD  A.    WASHBURN.  459 

those  who  call  themselves  loyal ;  we  too  are  loyal,  '  not  a  whit  he- 
hind  the  chiefest;'  but  a  true  loyalty  is  not  bhndness.     It  were  an 
ungracious  task,  indeed,  to  dwell  on  the  imperfections  of  the  liturgy ; 
to  show,  by  historic  proof,  that  our  morning  service,  as  used  on  the 
Lord's  day,  is  an  ill-adjusted  pile  of  several  distinct  offices ;  to  point 
out  the  unfitness  of  the  calendar  for  weekly  occasions,  the  meager- 
ness  of  our  collection  of  chants  and  hymns,  and  the  rest.     We 
should  prefer  to  bring  forward  its  rich  beauties.     As  the  standard  of 
liturgical  services,  the  general  norm  of  practice,  it  is  unequalled ;  it 
has,  in  the  phrase  of  Hooker,  '  a  sensible  excellency,  correspondent 
to  the  majesty  of  Him  whom  we  worship ;'  unity  and  harmony 
pervade  it ;  confession,  absolution,  chant,  lesson,  and  prayer,  move 
onward  in  one  sweUing  chorus ;  its  collects  are  the  utterance  of  the 
Christian  heart  in  its  devoutest  ages  ;  its  seasons  of  festival  and  fast 
bear  us  from  mystery  to  mystery  of  His  Divine  Life,  who  is  the 
Type  of  His  Church  ;  its  baptismal  and  communion  offices  are  wit- 
nesses of  CathoHc  faith  and  devotion, 

"  But  we  may  surely  say  all  this,  and  yet,  without  fear  of  being 
called  blasphemers,  hold  that  our  system  demands  some  modifica- 
tion. The  difficulty  lies  not  so  much  in  the  liturgy  itself  as  in  our 
too  rigid  use  of  it ;  it  is  absolutely  imperative  in  every  detail  amidst 
all  the  changing  circumstances  of  ministerial  work.  We  are  so  far 
from  conservative  in  this,  that  we  have  lost  its  original  method ;  we 
have  not  at  all  the  varied  hours  and  varied  offices  of  those  who 
framed  the  liturgy.  It  was  never  meant  to  be  the  same  routine  for 
all  occasions;  we  have  made  it  such,  and  deadened  it  by  our  own 
stiffness.  Devotion  wearies  with  the  repetition  morning  and  evening, 
not  only  on  the  Lord's  day,  but  in  every  daily  prayer  ^nd  special  ser- 
vice, of  the  same  form  of  'linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out.'  But 
the  defect  is  felt  far  more  with  the  missionary  among  those  who 
have  not  the  trained  habit  of  worship.  Imagine  St.  Paul  in  cassock 
and  surplice  haranguing  the  crowd  of  Athens  or  Lystra ;  in  every 
discourse,  at  every  fresh  station,  beginning  with  his  *  dearly  beloved 
brethren;'  reading  Venite  and  Te  Deum  when  he  found  no  music; 
making  his  own  responses ;  and  so  through  Litany  and  Ante-Com- 
munion, service  on  service,  Ossa  on  Pelion,  before  he  could  speak 


460  STEPHEN   H.    TTXG. 

one  hearty  word  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  is  no  caricature.  Not 
a  missionary  meeting  in  western  wilds,  not  a  handful  of  countrymen 
untrained  in  liturgies,  but,  hungering  after  truth,  can  listen  without 
these  preliminaries. 

"  The  work  of  the  Church  Catholic  is  committed  to  us.  "What 
have  we  done  to  accomplish  it  ?  Somewhat,  doubtless.  But  we 
have  been  mainly  occupied  with  our  own  peculiar  diflferences,  our 
rival  interests  borrowed  from  the  mother  church.  Two  great  parties 
have  divided  us,  and  thus  far  our  history  has  been  their  conflict. 
Each  has  had  its  godly  men  and  its  earnest  aims,  but  each  has  given 
up  to  party  what  was  meant  for  the  Church.  The  Evangelical  side 
has  been  battling  against  the  errors  of  Rome  and  Oxford :  it  has 
preached  justification  by  faith,  and  in  many  cases  it  has  uttered 
needful  rebuke ;  but  it  has  been  chiefly  an  opposition,  and  in  its  one- 
sidedness  has  severed  the  Church  from  the  Gospel.  We  do  not 
here  confound  the  Church  with  its  parties ;  we  rejoice  to  believe, 
apart  from  these,  that  there  is  a  unity  of  earnest  minds  who  hold  its 
truth.  But  we  would  see  that  unity  more  manifest.  The  Church 
asks  to-day  reality,  not  theory ;  it  wants  men  to  come  out  of  these 
old  one-sided  positions  and  unite  in  its  principles ;  to  hold,  to  teach, 
to  toil  for  the  Church,  not  ignore  it ;  but  the  Church  in  its  living 
Catholic  meaning,  in  its  broad  Catholic  activities.  Hence  we  hail 
this  memorial  as  a  sign  of  the  times ;  as,  in  the  words  of  a  Bishop 
lately,  alas !  too  soon  taken  from  us,  '  the  noblest  movement  of  the 
American  Church  since  its  formation.'  It  is  not  merely  as  a  scheme 
of  church  extension  that  we  regard  it ;  it  shows  that  principles  are 
at  work,  that  men  are  feeling  a  want ;  it  carries  in  it  aims,  and  noble 
promises  greater  than  any  rubrical  changes ;  it  is  a  step  in  the  direc- 
tion of  practical  action." 

After  this  remarkable  statement  of  the  needs,  deficiencies,  and 
mission  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  Mr.  Washburn  gives  it 
as  his  conclusion  that  the  needed  reform  is  embraced  in  "  the  creation 
of  a  clerical  order  for  extra-parochial  and  missionary  work^  and  the 
allowance  of  a  greater  variety  in  worship.  This  may  be  accomplished 
by  an  increase  of  forms  of  service,  of  more  stately  harmonies  for 
solemn  seasons,  of  simpler  modes  for  simpler  uses.     Or  it  may  be 


"catholic  union."  461 

done  by  the  admission  of  a  power,  duly  limited,  of  preaching  the 
word  and  ministering  the  sacraments  with  less  rigid  enforcement  of 
the  rubric.  These  modifications  will  not  break  down  the  barriers 
of  order.  No  material  changes  need  be  made  in  the  ordinary  ser- 
\dce  of  our  parishes ;  and  in  every  case,  while  greater  freedom  is 
allowed  for  special  occasions,  we  should  preserve  the  essential  fea- 
tures of  our  liturgy,  e.  ff.,  the  creeds,  the  absolution,  the  Lord's 
prayer,  the  necessary  formulae  of  the  baptismal  and  eucharistic 
offices.  Psalter,  lessons,  and  collects  may  be  left  open  for  selection. 
Very  far  are  we  from  those  who  would  surrender  our  worship  for 
random  extemporizing ;  we  want  '  a  well-regulated  liberty.'  There 
will  be  those  who  doubt  the  practicability  of  some  plans  proposed 
by  certain  of  the  Memorialists,  as  the  admission  of  ministers  from 
the  Christian  bodies  around  us  to  orders  with  but  few  liturgical 
restrictions.  Such  a  scheme  may,  indeed,  have  a  wrong  as  well  as 
a  right  side;  yet  we  can  conceive  no  difficulty  in  making  such 
restrictions,  though  few,  sufficient  to  preserve  the  faith  and  principles 
of  the  Church.  Certainly  at  present  our  Episcopate  has  more  the 
aspect  of  a  denominational  peculiarity  than  a  Catholic  institution ; 
and  we  shall  do  well  to  consider  in  what  practical  way  we  may 
restore  its  Catholic  function." 

The  careful  reader  of  the  Memorial  has  not  failed  to  observe  that 
its  author  had  in  view  a  more  comprehensive  purpose  than  the 
relaxing  of  forms  of  service  and  the  creation  of  a  clerical  order  for 
missionary  work.  Dr.  Muhlenberg,  who  may  be  esteemed  as  at  the 
head  of  this  whole  movement,  is  consecrated  to  a  principle  which 
underlies  all  proposed  reforms — the  principle  of  Evangelical  Catho- 
licity, or  the  building  up  a  Church  out  of  evangelical  denominations, 
which  shall  have  the  universality,  the  concentrated  strength,  the 
flexibility,  the  unity,  and  the  historic  power  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  stripped  of  its  heavy  burdens  of  forms,  of  errors,  and  of 
recorded  crimes.  This  idea  Dr.  Muhlenberg  launched  on  its  first 
voyage  a  number  of  years  ago,  in  1836,  we  think,  in  a  little  volume 
entitled  "Catholic  Union,"  in  which  he  proposes  a  Council  of  Evan- 
gehcal  Churches — to  be  called  The  Council  of  Peace — to  agree  upon 
a  common  creed,  a  common  church  government,  and  a  common 


462  STKPHEN    II.    TYlsG. 

order  of  public  worship ;  which  shall  be  so  general  as  to  be  capable 
of  adoption  by  the  confederate  churches,  and  yet  leave  each  denomi- 
nation to  indulge  its  peculiar  forms  or  favorite  tenets ;  the  advan- 
tage of  the  union  being  unity  of  action  in  missionary  entei'prises, 
expelling  of  rivalries,  freedom  of  exchange  between  pulpits,  and  pro- 
motion of  Christian  love  by  nearer  contact  in  Christian  work  and  in 
Christian  sympathy. 

A  great  difficulty  in  the  way  of  such  a  union  lies  in  the  matter 
of  ordination,  or  what  shall  constitute  the  essentials  of  an  ordained 
preacher.  Dr.  Muhlenberg  seeks  to  obviate  this  difficulty,  by  pro- 
posing that  the  form  of  ordination  for  the  ministers  of  the  con- 
federated Church  should  only  include  those  particulars  in  which  all 
denominations  are  agreed;  and  that  if  Episcopalians  will  meet 
other  denominations  to  that  extent,  it  would  be  very  proper  for 
other  denominations  to  consent  that  the  ordination  shall  come 
from  the  Episcopal  Church;  inasmuch  as  this  ordination  is  es- 
teemed by  all  as  valid  as  any,  and  by  Episcopalians  more  valid  than 
some. 

In  the  promotion  of  this  idea  of  Union,  Dr.  Muhlenberg  has 
more  recently  (during  two  years)  edited  a  periodical  entitled  "  The 
Evangelical  Catholic."  Indeed  he  esteems  the  central  idea  of  this 
movement  to  be  the  emancipation  of  the  Protestant  Episcopate,  so 
that  ordination  may  be  conferred  on  any  person  or  minister  of  other 
denomination  desiring  it,  who  shall  bring  the  essentials  of  a  blame- 
less life,  evangelical  belief,  and  ordinary  quahfications,  without 
requiring  conformity  to  the  rubrics  and  regulations  of  the  Episco- 
pal Church.  As  Dr.  Muhlenberg  expresses  it :  "  Whenever,  then,  a 
Bishop  is  satisfied  that  a  Christian  man  of  sound  mind,  asking  of 
him  the  ministerial  commission,  will  so  preach  and  teach  (as  the 
disciples  did) ;  will  so  baptize  in  the  name  of  the  Blessed  Trinity, 
and  consequently  inculcate  obedience  and  love  to  the  three  Persons 
and  one  God,  in  their  several  relations  to  man,  and  in  their  essential 
unity ;  and  further,  will  instruct  those  who  believe  in  the  will  of 
Christ  contained  in  His  word,  the  Bishop  is  free  to  give  the  com- 
mission— nothing  may  hinder.  Canons,  customs,  or  usages,  if  they 
are  in  the  way,  are  to  be  scattered  as  chaff  before  the  wind.     They 


ADVOCATES    AND   OPPOSERS.  463 

are  impertinences  coming  between  tlie  mouth  of  the  Lord  and  the 
will  of  His  servant." 

We  have  thus  indicated  the  leading  points  of  the  movement, 
without  attempting  to  present  the  elaborate  argiiments  foi;  and 
against  it.  It  will  be  observed  that  it  ignores  the  standing  division 
into  "High  Church"  and  "Low  Church."  It  cuts  the  loaf  the 
other  way,  from  the  top  to  bottom.  Members  of  the  old  parties 
find  themselves  on  either  side.  "  The  Episcopal  Recorder"  of  Phila- 
delphia (Low  Church)  advocates  the  movement ;  "  The  Protestant 
Churchman"  of  New  York  (also  Low  Church)  opposes  it;  while 
"The  Church  Journal"  (High  Church,  or  perhaps  we  should  say 
more  correctly,  broad-chmch),  so  far  as  it  has  revealed  itself,  sympa- 
thizes ;  and  "  The  Churchman"  (High  Church)  opposes.  Yet  none 
of  these  papers  (it  should  be  understood)  favors  the  movement  to 
the  extent  of  advocating  the  liberal  principle  of  ordination  pro- 
pounded by  Dr.  Muhlenberg.  This  movement  has  also  its  counter- 
part in  England,  but  of  that  our  limits  forbid  speech.  It  excites 
universal  interest  and  discussion  through  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church.  It  is  not  as  yet  a  school  or  a  party.  It  is  simply  a 
vitality,  a  movement,  a  tendency.  Its  essence  is  Christian  De- 
mocracy. Its  great  propulsion  is  the  power  of  The  People.  It  is  a 
progressive  movement  towards  Liberty.  At  the  next  Triennial  Con- 
vention, held  in  October,  it  is  likely  to  assume  some  organized 
shape,  or,  at  least,  concentrate  its  forces  preparatory  to  an  organiza- 
tion.   To  that  time  we  look  with  interest. 


JAMES  WADDELL  ALEXANDER 

THE  OLD  SCHOOL  PRESBYTEIOAN  PREACHEE. 


■Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile." 


"We  acknowledge  a  peculiar  hesitation  in  attempting  a  sketch 
of  Dr.  Alexander.  It  is  a  serious  work  to  discuss  the  life  and 
character  of  any  man.  To  present  a  truth  is  not  so  serious ; 
because  its  isolation  from  personal  and  social  existence  lessens 
the  delicacy  and  responsibility  of  the  task,  and  the  truth  wrongly 
apprehended  by  one  is  set  right  by  another.  The  distortion  of 
to-day  gives  place  io  the  accurate  portraiture  of  to-morrow.  To 
define  a  principle  is  not  so  serious,  for  the  principle  can  be 
contemplated  till  every  fibre  is  outlined,  and  every  phase  radi- 
ant. To  paint  a  landscape  is  not  so  serious,  for  its  permanence 
affords  continued  contemplation  and  consequent  accuracy ;  winds 
cannot  sweep  away  its  identity,  and  cloud-shadows  leave  no  marring 
footsteps.  To  fashion  a  statue  is  not  so  serious,  for  it  embodies  but 
one  sentiment,  conceived  by  the  artist,  which  genius  enables  him  to 
set  forth,  without  failure  in  the  enduring  and  eloquent  language  of 
Sculpture.  But  how  diflScult,  fully  to  describe  a  man,  the  truths 
of  whose  being  are  infinite  in  number  and  ramified  through  social 
life ;  the  principles  of  whose  character  are  ever  changing  by  growth ; 
the  facts  of  whose  experience  are  so  numerous,  and  the  most  essen- 
tial so  sacredly  guarded;  who  includes  such  a  variety  of  senti- 
ments, of  thoughts,  of  opinions,  of  desires,  that  the  bosom-friend  has 
read  but  part ;  whose  nature  the  cloud  permanently  darkens ;  or 


CHARACTERISTICS.  465 

the  prosperous  sunshine  warps,  or  temptation's  storm  disfigures  or 
destroys. 

But  the  description  of  certain  characters  is  specially  difficult,  be- 
cause of  the  perfections  which  render  description  so  desirable.  A 
character,  harmonious,  balanced,  disciplined,  pruned  of  excrescence, 
is  respected  and  loved,  but  not  so  much  talked  of.  Moreover  there 
is  a  sacredness  surrounding  a  true  and  harmonious  character,  which 
exalts  it  above  the  sphere  of  every-day  discussion,  and  shields  it 
from  the  ken  of  curiosity. 

But  while  completeness  of  character  disheartens  one  who  attempts 
description,  it  also  inspires  in  the  same  proportion.  It  is  felt  that 
the  task,  though  serious,  is  a  worthy  one.  The  desire  that  a  larger 
number  should  know  such  a  character,  is  a  constantly  impelling 
power.  It  does  not  seem  right  that  a  favored  few  should  monopo- 
lize the  knowledge  of  its  existence,  or  one  cherished  circle  receive 
all  the  advantage  of  its  example ;  that  humility  should  limit  the 
circle  of  appreciation,  and  modesty  silence  the  tongue  of  praise. 
Yet  we  would  not  speak  of  such  a  one  when  on  the  world's  highway, 
surrounded  by  the  rushing  strife  for  gold  or  glory,  but  rather  when 
no  cares  of  business  were  harassing,  and  no  wild  desire  for  wealth 
or  honor  inflaming ;  when  ambitious  thoughts  and  proud  designs 
were  banished,  and  longings  for  better  things  were  felt ;  and  when 
we  should  be  inspired  to  press  on  in  the  path  of  right,  by  contem- 
plating the  example  of  an  upright  man. 

Thus  would  we  talk  reverentially  of  this  religious  teacher.  We 
would  not  discourse  of  his  achievements  in  eloquence  or  of  his 
contributions  to  literature,  neither  would  we  recount  strange  circum- 
stances of  his  life,  for  its  calm  surface  has  scarcely  been  rippled, 
though  its  depths  have  been  at  times  agitated ;  neither  would  we 
describe  his  appearance  on  some  great  occasions,  for  on  great  occa- 
sions he  is  not  present :  but  we  would  talk  of  his  gentleness,  his 
modesty,  his  devotion  to  the  cause  of  truth,  his  Christian  love  ;  and 
we  would  read  together  from  his  discourses  and  learn  of  him  by  his 
writings.  And  still,  if  we  were  holding  such  converse,  we  would 
not  eulogize,  for  we  would  bear  in  mind  that  eulogy  is  specially  dis- 
tasteful to  him.     Indeed,  modesty,  genuine  Christian  modesty,  is  a 

30 


460  JAMES    W.    ALEXANDER. 

marked  characteristic.  He  does  not  thirst  for  the  praise  of  men, 
but  rather  loathes  it ;  he  does  not  strive  for  publicity  or  prominence, 
but  rather  shuns  it.  His  highest  ambition  is  to  "  do  the  will  of  his 
Father,  and  to  finish  His  work."  On  entering  the  ministry  he  seems 
to  have  banished  all  thoughts  of  self-aggrandizement,  nay,  to  have 
forgotten  self,  and  only  to  have  remembered  that  he  was  "bought  with 
a  price,"  and  it  was  therefore  his  duty  and  his  privilege  to  "  glorify 
God  in  his  body  and  in  his  spirit,  which  are  God's."  Such  disen- 
thrallment  from  all  worldly  ambition,  such  forgetfulness  of  self  in 
the  love  of  the  truth,  such  freedom  from  all  desire  of  distinction,  even 
on  account  of  the  influence  it  insures,  and  the  consequent  advan- 
tage to  the  cause  of  truth — a  desire  generally  deemed  laudable — is 
not  often  seen  in  this  w^orld.  We  all  love  it  when  we  see  it :  we 
prize  it  the  more  highly  for  its  rarity.  It  specially  becomes  preachers 
of  that  Gospel  first  proclaimed  by  the  "  meek  and  lowly  one ;"  and 
among  them  will  it  more  frequently  be  found. 

But  this  characteristic  does  not  trench  upon  independence  of 
opinion,  or  make  individuality  of  thought  subsernent  to  prevailing 
notions.  Dr.  Alexander  is  far  from  manifesting  timidity  in  declaring 
an  opinion  which  is  demanded,  or  hesitation  in  defending  one  which 
is  assailed.  He  is  alike  removed  from  the  excessive  readiness  in 
propounding  individual  sentiments  which  savors  of  conceit,  or  the 
perseverance  in  their  defence  which  betokens  obstinacy. 

Nor  does  his  modesty  spring  from  self-depreciation,  which  roots 
out  all  originality  and  dries  up  the  energies  of  self-reliance.  He  is 
conscious  of  mental  strength.  And  knowing  what  it  is,  he  recog- 
nizes it  and  respects  it  in  others.  He  forms  his  own  opinions,  and 
forms  them  by  his  own  investigation.  They  are  the  result  of  a 
careful  scrutiny  of  facts,  and  are  based  upon  philosophical  principles. 
When  thoroughly  established  and  suitably  grown,  they  are  sent  into 
the  open  day  where  the  world  may  see  them,  without  hesitation. 
They  are  never  recalled  because  of  the  strength  of  opposition  or 
the  well-meant  advice  of  politic  friends.  Their  author  only  disowns 
them  when  a  clearer  reason  shall  have  revealed  their  fallacy,  or  a 
deeper  philosophy  demonstrated  their  unsoundness.  It  is  very  sel- 
dom that  a  man  who  loves  the  truth,  and  is  honest  and  faithful  in 


LITERARY   ACQUIREMENTS.  467 

its  searcli,  is  arrogant  or  timid  in  proclaiming  opinions,  or  is 
obstinate  or  hesitating  in  defending  them.  Modesty  and  decision 
are  the  two  graces  that  mark  the  good,  great  man.  Respect  is 
shown,  not  subserviency ;  regard  felt,  not  adoration ;  modesty  ex- 
hibited not  servility. 

Dr.  Alexander  is  not  confined  in  his  researches  to  one  class  of 
subjects.  His  mind  does  not  plod  round  in  a  beaten  track,  always 
grinding  out  the  same  kind  of  juice.  His  range  of  investigation  is 
remarkably  extensive  and  comprehensive.  In  subjects  strictly  the- 
ological he  is  well  versed,  as  becomes  a  theologian.  But  in  ad- 
dition to  this,  he  is  an  accurate  scholar  in  other  departments.  He  is 
thoroughly  read  in  ecclesiastical  and  general  history.  He  has  made 
extensive  literary  acquirements,  and  has  a  refined  literary  taste.  He 
is  on  friendly  terms  with  German  writers,  as  well  as  with  the  chosen 
of  his  native  tongue.  He  has  gathered  stores  of  learning  and  gems  of 
thought  from  most  of  the  departments  of  the  intellectual  ^vorld.  He 
is  remarkably  familiar  with  the  current  literature  of  the  day,  keeps  a 
watchful  eye  on  the  popular  magazines,  and  does  not  allow  political 
or  general  intelligence  to  pass  unheeded.  So  extensive  and  varied 
has  been  his  reading,  that  few  subjects  can  be  introduced  upon  which 
he  does  not,  in  his  unobtrusive  manner,  appear  perfectly  at  home,  or 
scarcely  an  author  mentioned  about  whom  he  has  not  formed  one  of  his 
well-grounded  opinions.  If  one  meets  him  in  the  arena  of  theology, 
he  would  pronounce  him  to  be  a  good  theologian ;  if  in  the  broad 
field  of  history,  an  historian ;  and  if  literature  and  belles-lettres  are 
the  prominent  theme  of  discourse,  it  might  be  supposed  that  to  them 
he  had  devoted  undue  attention.  Moreover,  he  has  a  keen  appreci- 
ation of  the  beauties  of  works  of  art,  and  exercises  thereupon  a  dis- 
criminating judgment.  We  speak  of  this  wide  comprehension  of 
the  literary  pursuits  of  Dr.  Alexander  because  of  its  unusual  existence 
among  the  members  of  his  profession.  Ministers  are  quite  enough 
inclined  to  be  theologians,  and  to  be  nothing  else  but  theologians. 
There  is  a  tendency  in  the  profession  to  exclusiveness  of  pursuit,  and 
to  confinement  of  thought.  No  man  doubts  that  theology  is  the 
noblest  of  sciences,  and  the  most  exalted  of  studies,  but  to  be  suit- 
ably apprehended  it  may  not  be  exclusively  followed.     The  man 


468  JAMKS    W.    ALEXANDER. 

■who  pursues  any  one  study  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  can  hardly 
fail  to  become  a  narrow-minded  man  and  a  bigot.  The  religious 
teacher,  above  all  other  men,  should  be  generous  in  his  notions,  far- 
reaching  in  his  views,  wide-embracing  in  his  acquirements.  Re- 
ligion has  such  an  intimate  relation  with  the  whole  man — it  so  man- 
ifestly involves  the  perfection  of  the  whole  being,  that  its  exemplars 
and  its  dispensers  should  specially  attain  thorough  and  complete 
development.  They  should  do  this  for  the  good  of  their  congrega- 
tions. Every  congregation  is  made  up  of  individuals  whose  pursuits, 
tastes,  mental  powers,  associations,  embrace  the  widest  varieties. 
The  true  Christian  minister  wishes  to  reach  the  inner  being  of  each 
one  of  these,  and  mould  it.  He  can  only  do  it  by  meeting  each  on  h\s 
own  ground.  This  one  is  gained  by  close  reasoning,  that  one  by  an 
appeal  to  the  feelings.  The  truth  is  made  vivid  to  this  one  by  an 
illustration  from  science,  to  that  one  by  an  historical  fact,  to  the 
other  by  an  analogy  drawn  from  the  existing  events  of  real  hfe. 
Politics,  literature,  poetry,  can  all  be  made  subservient  to  the  en- 
forcement and  elucidation  of  religious  truth.  The  preacher  must  be 
"  all  things  to  all  men." 

And  the  Christian  minister  should  do  this  for  his  own  sake.  He 
needs  to  divert  his  thoughts  at  times  from  the  main  object  of  their 
devotion  for  relief,  else  his  mind  will  become  morbidly  affected.  It 
cannot  continue  vigorous  and  healthy  when  it  is  bent  down,  year 
after  year,  to  one  absorbing  task.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the  fresh- 
ness and  force  of  Dr.  Alexander's  intellect,  after  years  of  severe  un- 
mitigated application,  are  so  excellently  retained  in  consequence  of 
the  wide  scope  of  his  studies. 

Dr.  Alexander's  life  has  been  a  quiet,  pastoral,  student  life.  He 
never  appears  on  platforms,  nor  in  crowds,  nor  at  thronged  anniver- 
saries. He  is  constitutionally  timid  and  retiring,  and  exquisitely 
delicate  in  his  tastes  and  refined  in  his  sensibilities.  He  is  the  model 
old-school  Presbyterian ;  devout  and  reverential  towards  God ; 
thoroughly  orthodox  in  belief,  and  thoroughly  believing  in  ortho- 
doxy ;  wise  in  counsel  and  conservative  in  sentiment ;  brought  up  at 
the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  and  taught  according  to  the  perfect  manner  of 
the  law  of  the  fathers ;  revering  Princeton,  and  contributing  to  its 


DR.  ALEXANDER    AND   MR.  BEECHER   IN   CONTRAST.       469 

Re\^ew ;  a  "  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews,"  "  zealous  towards  God ;"  "  an 
Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile." 

In  most  of  our  sketches  we  have  taken  some  pains  to  state  indi- 
vidualizing sentiments ;  but  we  do  not  propose  to  develop  at  length 
the  opinions  of  Dr.  Alexander.     In  saying  that  he  is  a  worthy  old- 
school  Presbyterian,  we  define  his  position  so  distinctly  that  addi- 
tional words  might  only  obscure  it,  and  additional  description  possi- 
bly awaken  controversy.     Yet  there  are  some  in  the  community 
upon  whom  the  theological  discussions  of  the  last  half  century  have 
been  entirely  lost,  and  perhaps  in  no  more  graphic  or  accurate  way 
could  such  be  enlightened  than  by  advising  them  to  take  the  some- 
what extended  description  of  Mr.  Beecher's  views,  sentiments,  and 
sympathies,  and  over  against  all,  which  are  not  adopted  by  the  great 
body  of  evangelical  Christians,  erect  their  opposites,  and  you  have 
the  views,  sentiments,  and  sympathies  of  Dr.  James  W.  Alexander. 
Contrast  Mr.  Beecher's  disrespect  for  theologies,  with  Dr.  Alexander's 
reverence  for  the  Princeton  faith;  Mr.  Beecher's  loving  approach  to 
the  Deity,  with  Dr.  Alexander's  awe ;  Mr.  Beecher's  theory  that  the 
terms  of  the  New  Testament  are  addressed  to  the  affections  through 
the  imagination,  with  Dr.  Alexander's  conviction  that  they  are  ad- 
dressed to  the  intellect  with  the  precision  of  philosophical  terms,  pre- 
senting an  harmonious,  elaborated,  complete,  and  perfect  religious 
system;  Mr.  Beecher's  presentation  of  the  truth  by  figures,  with  Dr. 
Alexander's  presentation  of  the  truth  by  precise  propositions ;  Mr. 
Beecher's  pictures  of  every-day  life  with  Dr.  Alexander's  profound 
exegesis ;  Mr.  Beecher's  conversational  Extempore,  with  Dr.  Alex- 
ander's finished  discourse ;   Mr.  Beecher's  careless  grace,  with  Dr. 
Alexander's  cuUivated  elegance ;  Mr.  Beecher's  daring  anti-slavery, 
with  Dr.  Alexander's  considerate  conservatism ;  Mr.  Beecher— the 
child  of  nature,  the  easy  companion,  the  platform  orator,  the  people's 
preacher,  with  Dr.  Alexander— the  scholar,  the  elegant  conversation- 
ist, the  recluse,  the  old-school  preacher ; — thus,  at  repeated  and  va- 
rious points,  bring  these  two  into  contrast,  and  each  is  seen  with  un- 
mistakable distinctness. 

Dr.  Alexander  has  not  the  rugged  strength  of  Mr.  Beecher — nor 
does  he  awaken  the  conscience  by  those  thrilling  bm-sts  of  elo- 


470  JAMKS    W.    ALEXA^sDER. 

quence  in  whicli  this  orator  abounds.  Dr.  Alexander  touches  the 
"  harp  of  a  thousand  strings"  with  a  greater  delicacy ;  Mr.  Beecher 
with  a  bolder,  freer  movement;  botli  with  uncommon  skill.  Mr. 
Beecher  will  bring  music  out  of  an  instrument  that  has  lain  un- 
strung for  years ;  Dr.  Alexander  requires  a  certain  preparation  of  the 
heart  and  intellect  on  the  part  of  the  hearer.  Mr.  Beecher's  elo- 
quence flashes  and  startles  like  an  exploding  meteor;  that  of  Dr. 
Alexander  burns  with  the  planet's  calm  and  healing  light.  After 
hearing  Mr.  Beecher,  striking  and  detached  sentences  are  the  more 
readily  recalled ;  one  admires  the  general  bearing  of  a  sermon  by 
Dr.  Alexander.  Both  preach  with  great  solemnity ;  both  present 
the  truth  in  its  length  and  breadth,  without  any  trimming  to  fit  pe- 
culiar tastes,  or  any  smoothing  for  the  accommodation  of  delicate 
sensibilities.  Both  appeal  to  the  conscience  with  the  directness 
that  is  always  solemn,  and  sometimes  fearful.  Dr.  Alexander  im- 
parts more  instruction  than  Mr.^  Beecher.  The  latter  strives  to 
awaken  the  mind  rather  than  to  feed  it.  Mr.  Beecher  would  attract 
the  larger  circle ;  Dr.  Alexander  the  choicer  one.  Dr.  Alexander 
would  not  be  called  an  orator  by  the  many;  Mr.  Beecher  is  not 
called  an  orator  by  a  few.  Both  are  independent  thinkers,  bold 
proclaimers  of  opinions,  and  unflinching  defenders  of  their  views  of 
truth. 

Diff'ering  thus  essentially  in  style,  they  diff'er  even  more  in  their 
manner  of  delivery.  Mr.  Beecher  uses  his  muscular  arm  vigorously 
and  freely.  He  abounds  in  energy,  enterprise,  and  action.  Dr. 
Alexander's  gestures  are  not  unfrequent,  but  are  considerate  and 
proper.  He  brings  his  hands  together  fervently,  yet  not  with  a 
ring.     He  regards  the  proprieties  of  the  pulpit  to  perfection. 

Dr.  Alexander's  writings  are  characterized  by  a  completeness 
which  allows  no  irregularity,  and  a  finish  which  leaves  no  excres- 
cence. With  Dr.  Tyng  there  is  a  fulness  of  language  and  rounding 
of  sentences  which  mark  his  style :  Mr.  Beecher's  sayings  come  with 
a  momentum  which  startles,  with  a  brilliancy  which  dazzles,  or  with 
a  strength  which  subdues :  Dr.  Cox  has  repleteness  of  language,  but 
in  his  style  there  is  a  discrepancy,  a  waywardness,  and  a  luxuri- 
ance ;  withal,  a  force,  point,  and  energy,  which  amuse,  provoke, 


HIS   STYLE.  471 

please,  and  instruct  at  once,  but  in  such  a  cliaotic  way,  that  one  is 
left  quite  in  a  puzzle  whether  to  approve  or  condemn.  But  with 
Dr.  Alexander  there  is  wealth  of  expression,  but  wealth  prudently- 
distributed.  He  does  not  employ  a  redundancy  of  words  in  express- 
ing any  one  idea.  The  redundancy  is  rather  in  ideas.  Any  and 
every  subject  opens  and  widens  under  his  inspiring  touch  to  such  an 
extent,  that  it  is  difficult  to  compress ;  and  yet  he  does  not  wander 
from  the  highway  of  his  main  thought,  turning  into  every  lot  where 
the  bars  may  be  left  down,  as  Dr.  Cox  is  so  apt  to  do — who  even 
takes  down  a  length  of  fence  to  make  a  lively  turn  in  some  pleasant 
meadow,  when  he  should  be  moving  right  on  to  his  journey's  end. 
Dr.  Alexander  rarely  has  digressions,  and  never  episodes.  If  he 
stops  by  the  way,  it  is  but  for  a  moment  to  gather  some  fruit,  or 
pluck  some  flower,  which  it  would  have  been  hard  to  have  passed 
unnoticed.  And  he  never  stops  for  even  these,  however  nourishing 
or  beautiful,  unless  they  conduce  to  a  better  progress.  His  principle 
of  association  is  logical,  that  of  Dr.  Cox  emotional  or  verbal.  Yet 
there  is  no  stateliness  of  style,  but  ease ;  a  play  of  parts  knit  to- 
gether ;  a  liberty  under  law.  It  is  this  elegance,  united  with  grace 
and  strength,  which  distinguishes  his  style.  He  indulges  but  little 
in  illustrations,  and  devotes  less  attention  to  adornment  by  imagery. 
Yet  the  illustrations  and  imagery  employed  are  apt  and  choice.  In 
illustrating  abstract  truth  from  nature,  we  apprehend  that  the  minds 
of  Dr.  Alexander  and  Mr.  Beecher  work  in  opposite  directions.  The 
former  clearly  apprehends  the  truth,  and  then  seeks  in  nature  for  its 
illustration :  while  to  the  latter  Nature  is  ever,  by  manifold  analo- 
gies, suggesting  and  illustrating  the  spiritual  truth. 

He  pronounces  each  word  fully  and  clearly;  and  while  com- 
pletely finishing  the  articulation  of  the  one  before  commencing 
another,  he  does  not  carry  distinctness  to  such  an  excess  as  to 
leave  each  word  to  shift  for  itself,  unsupported  by  its  neighbor. 
He  has  variety  of  inflection  and  a  happy  modulation.  The  upward 
inflection  predominates,  which  imparts  a  cheerful  air.  In  his  tone 
of  voice,  pronunciation,  and  modulation,  he  reminds  us  somewhat  of 
Dr.  Orville  Dewey.  He  speaks  with  much  the  same  deliberation 
and  emphasis  and  variety  of  intonation.     But  in  this  variety  there 


i72  JAMES    ^V.    ALEXANDER. 

is  nothing  extravagant,  overstrained,  or  unnatui-al.  He  manifests  a 
warm  interest  in  his  subject,  which  often  rises  into  fervor,  not  only 
by  emphasis  and  intonation,  but  also  by  forcible  and  frequent  ges- 
tures. He  manifests  vigor  in  his  pulpit — vigor  of  mind  and  of  body 
— and  vigor  of  heart  also.  One  feels  that  a  strong  man  is  speak- 
ing— one  who  thinks  thoroughly  and  feels  fervently.  Though  he 
always  delivers  written  discourses,  yet  there  is  a  naturalness,  free- 
dom, and  earnestness  in  his  preaching  which  partakes  of  Extempore. 
Thus  does  he  combine,  to  a  limited  extent,  the  advantages  of  both 
forms,  the  strength  and  finish  of  preparation  with  the  grace  and 
directness  of  Extempore. 

In  personal  manner.  Dr.  Alexander  is  dignified,  without  arro- 
gance ;  polite,  without  formality ;  familiar,  without  bluntness ;  and 
affable,  without  condescension.  His  manner,  with  its  freedom  from 
oddity  or  fault,  fitly  types  his  symmetrical  and  complete  character. 
He  has  culture  of  conversation :  his  flow  of  words  charms  like  the 
music  of  a  summer  stream.  He  has  unusual  refinement  of  expres- 
sion and  finish  of  pronunciation.  He  infuses  into  his  sentences  a 
rhythm  and  an  harmonious  modulation  that  never  weakens  their 
force,  while  it  arrays  them  in  the  fair  adornment  of  poesy.  His 
fertility  of  thought  is  exuberant,  and  words  are  willing  ministers  to 
his  thoughts. 

Our  sketch  would  be  incomplete  did  we  not  allude  to  the  devo- 
tion of  Dr.  Alexander's  approaches  to  the  throne  of  grace.  It  may 
be  said  of  Dr.  Alexander,  that  "  in  prayer  he  steeps  the  seed  of  the 
word  which  with  prayer  he  scatters."  Those  who  hear  him  have 
felt  their  thoughts  exalted  above  this  world,  and  inspired  with  the 
holier  breath  of  Heaven.  At  the  family  altar  his  ministrations  are 
specially  gifted — so  clearly  does  he  apprehend  peculiar  wants,  and 
so  beautifully  adapt  the  words.  Perhaps  in  this  act  of  public  wor- 
ship, even  more  than  in  his  preaching,  does  he  manifest  the  solem- 
nity with  which  he  regards  the  duties  of  a  Christian  minister,  and 
the  weight  of  responsibility  which  he  feels  as  one  of  those  who 
"  watch  for  souls  as  those  who  must  give  account." 


BIOGRAPHY. 


BIO  GRAPHY. 


473 


Dr.  AlexaiKler  was  bom  on  the  thirteentli  of  March,  1804,  in 
Virginia.  He  was  graduated  at  Princeton  College,  1820.  He  en- 
tered the  Theological  Seminary  in  1822,  and  was  graduated  in 
1825.  He  preached  first  in  Virginia,  as  a  kind  of  evangelist,  and 
labored  during  a  portion  of  the  time  at  Lynchburg,  through  the 
progress  of  a  great  revival,  when  he  preached  ten  times  within  the 
limit  of  one  week.  He  afterwards  took  charge  of  the  First  Presby- 
terian Church  in  Trenton,  from  whence  he  went  to  Princeton  Col- 
lege to  enter  upon  the  Professorship  of  Latin  and  Belles-Lettres. 
He  remained  there  till  1843,  when  he  was  called  to  the  Duane- 
street  Presbyterian  Church,  of  New  York.  In  1849  he  was  ap- 
pointed by  the  General  Assembly  to  the  Professorship  of  Eccle- 
siastical History  in  Princeton  Theological  Seminary,  where  he  re- 
mained two  years,  during  which  tune  his  people  in  New  York 
had  erected  an  elegant  edifice  at  the  corner  of  Nineteenth-street 
and  Fifth  Avenue.  He  accepted  a  call  to  return  to  his  old  church 
in  1851,  during  which  year  he  went  to  Europe.  His  church  is 
strongly  united  in  him,  and  is  an  efficient,  generous,  and  wealthy 
society,  coupling  ability  with  readiness  in  good-doing.  The  Sab- 
bath audiences  are  large,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  find  a  seat  which 
can  be  permanently  secured  by  purchase  or  rent.  The  public  ser- 
vices are  noticeable  for  being  conducted  without  a  choir.  One 
man,  standing  in  front  of  the  congregation,  assisted  by  a  superior 
organ,  leads  the  excellent  congregational  singing. 

Dr.  Alexander  has  written  much  for  publication,  but  for  the  most 
part  anonymously.  His  articles  in  the  Princeton  Review,  if  col- 
lected, would  fill  several  volumes.  He  is  the  author  of  "  Life  of 
Dr.  Archibald  Alexander ;"  of  "  Consolation :  in  Discourses  on  Select 
Topics,  addressed  to  the  Suflfering  People  of  God;"  "The  Ameri- 
can Mechanic;"  "Words  to  a  Young  Communicant;"  "Family 
Worship ;"  "  Good,  Better,  Best ;"  and  Sabbath-school  books  and 
anonymous  volumes  amounting  probably  to  the  number  of  thirty. 


4:74:  JAMES    W.    ALEXANDER. 

Of  Dr.  Alexander's  ancestry  we  may  say,  that  about  the  year  1736 
the  Alexander  brothers  emigrated  to  America  from  Ireland.  They 
were  of  the  Scottish  race,  their  father  having  removed  from  Scot- 
land. They  were  well  educated :  one  of  them  was  a  teacher.  One 
of  the  brothers,  Archibald  Alexander,  settled  first  in  Pennsylvania, 
and  after  two  years  removed  to  Virginia.  Dr.  Archibald  Alexander 
thus  speaks  of  him  :  "  The  appearance  of  my  grandfather  I  remem- 
ber very  well.  He  was  rather  below  the  common  height ;  but  was 
thick-set,  broad-breasted,  and  strongly  built.  His  face  was  broad, 
and  his  eyes  large,  black,  and  prominent.  The  expression  of  his 
countenance  was  calm  and  benignant,  and  his  manner  of  speaking 
was  very  kind  and  affectionate.  He  raised  a  company  of  men 
called  Rangers,  and,  as  their  captain,  performed  a  term  of  duty  on 
the  Great  Kanawha  and  the  Ohio  ;  he  received,  in  connection  w^ith 
other  officers,  several  thousand  acres  of  land  in  Kentucky.  Perhaps 
no  man  ever  left  behind  him  a  higher  character  for  uprightness 
and  benignity  than  old  Esobell  Alexander,  as  he  was  called  by  the 
Scotch  people." 

Yf  illiam,  son  of  the  first  Archibald  Alexander,  was  an  elder  in 
the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  married  Ann  Reid,  the  daughter  of  a 
wealthy  landholder  of  the  same  Presbyterian  colony.  She  was  a 
retiring  and  humble,  but  aflfectionately  pious  woman.  Dr.  Archi- 
bald Alexander,  the  father  of  James,  was  their  son.  Rev.  James 
Waddell  of  Virginia,  Wirt's  "  Blind  Preacher,"  was  the  grandfather 
of  James. 

Of  the  descriptions  of  Dr.  Archibald  Alexander — of  whose  noble 
and  pure  life  Dr.  James  Alexander  has  written  with  such  attractive 
simplicity,  united  to  such  filial  piety — we  present  only  such  passages 
as  shall  illustrate  at  once  the  characters  of  both  father  and  son,  as 
we  apprehend  the  points  of  resemblance  in  the  midst  of  some  points 
of  difference : 

*'  Though  his  tell-tale  face  generally  revealed  his  feelings,  he  had 
a  great  talent  of  silence.  There  were  some  things  of  which  he  never 
spoke ;  as  of  his  pecuniary  affairs,  his  invitations  to  important  posts, 
his  devotional  exercises,  his  success  in  preaching.  Secrets  confided 
to  him  were  buried  in  the  grave. 


DK.  ARCHIBALD    ALEXANDER.  475 

"  That  he  was  reserved,  is  certain ;  that  he  was  sometimes  silent 
and  distant,  has  often  been  said ;  but  it  ought  to  be  added,  that  in 
such  silence  there  was  no  assumption  of  dignity,  and  not  a  vestige 
of  sullenness.  Wlien  he  shrunk  into  himself  it  was  from  some  great 
burden  on  his  spirits ;  for  in  the  presence  of  the  very  same  persons  he 
would  suddenly  come  out  of  his  temporary  gloom  with  a  spring  and 
suddenness  as  fitful  as  the  moods  of  infancy.  No  man  had  less  of 
what  may  be  called  moroseness.  His  powers  seem  to  have  attained 
maturity  in  the  morning  of  his  life. 

"Experimental,  casuistical,  practical,  consolatory  preaching,  may 
be  said  to  have  been  the  field  of  his  strength.  In  dissecting  the 
heart,  unravelling  long  trains  of  experience,  discovering  hidden  ref- 
uges, holding  the  mirror  up  to  self-deceiving  souls,  and  flashing  rays 
of  hope  on  the  lingering  and  self-righteous,  he  was  equalled  by  few. 
He  gloried  in  preaching  a  free  Gospel.  The  longer  he  lived  the 
more  wide,  cordial,  and  generous  was  his  ofifer  of  Christ  to  the  chief 
of  sinners. 

"  In  the  period  when  he  made  preaching  his  great  business,  his 
labors  were  everywhere  owned  of  God  to  the  awakening  and  con- 
version of  many  souls ;  and  all  through  his  life  such  tokens  were 
granted  to  him  fi:om  time  to  time.  Yet  it  is  believed  that  his  work 
was  far  more  remarkable  in  edifying  the  body  of  Christ,  simplifying 
and  enforcing  the  statements  of  doctrine,  removing  sciniples,  nour- 
ishing faith,  stimulating  to  holy  life,  and  consoling  the  tempted  and 
distressed. 

"  His  piety  was  to  a  remarkable  degree  blended  with  his  system 
of  truth.  In  his  mind  doctrine  and  experience  were  inseparable. 
This  was  consistent  with  the  high  place  which  he  always  assigned  to 
spiritual  understanding  and  to  faith. 

"  Prudence  was  a  prominent  trait  in  his  character.  That  this  did 
not  sometimes  degenerate  into  excessive  solicitude  and  caution,  we 
will  not  assert. 

"  Hence  he  passed  a  long  life,  almost  absolutely  free  from  strife 
with  any  fellow-creature.  If  he  had  enemies,  they  are  unknown  to 
us.  In  all  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance  he  was  not  more  truly  rev- 
erenced than  loved." 


4:76  JA^tES    W.    ALEXAXDER. 

We  hope  not  to  transgress  tlie  limits  of  propriety  if  "sve  venture  tc 
repeat  what  Mr.  Kirk  once  said — of  whose  beautiful  friendship  with 
Dr.  Alexander  we  have  spoken  in  the  early  part  of  the  volume. 

"My  love  for  Dr.  Alexander  is  my  earliest  and  tenderest.  He 
was  a  bright,  studious,  mischievous  boy.  I  was  like  him  in  the  last 
quality,  but  always  was  aware  that  he  was  my  superior  in  the  other 
qualities.  He  is  a  true-hearted  nobleman ;  and  grace  has  but 
ripened  and  refined  all  his  natural  excellence.  He  loved  play,  but 
he  loved  knowledge  about  as  well.  Our  youth  w^as  much  of  it 
passed  in  romance.  We  dreamed  together  of  life,  and  revelled  to- 
gether in  our  fancied  prospects.  The  trees  around  Princeton  may 
yet  bear  the  names  of  Laura  and  Petrarch,  Juliet  and  Ptomeo,  carved 
by  two  tender-hearted  swains.  All  our  amusements,  all  our  studies, 
were  performed  and  enjoyed  together  for  many  years.  And  the  re- 
membrance of  that  youthful  friendship  is  to  me  of  the  brightest 
We  studied  chemistry  together  as  amateurs,  and  once  commenced 
a  course  of  lectures  in  the  shed  behind  his  father's  kitchen ;  but,  I 
think  it  was  the  very  first  lecture,  when  my  friend  was  holding  forth 
to  the  admiring  audience  (composed  of  the  family),  that  his  brother 
William  overturned  a  phial  of  sulphuric  acid  on  his  hands,  clothes, 
and  face.  That  put  an  end  to  our  eff'orts  for  the  advance  of  science 
in  that  direction.  On  another  occasion  we  took  to  the  histrionic 
line ;  and  after  much  preparation  of  our  parts,  our  costumes,  and 
the  general  arrangement  of  the  theatre — ^just  as  we  had  fairly  com- 
menced the  performance,  the  venerable  form  of  his  father  was  seen 
entering  the  door.  He  stood  a  moment  and  regarded  us  with  a 
frown,  and  then  drily  remarked,  *  All  those  who  do  not  belong  to 
this  house  can  go  home.'  The  entertainment  w^as  closed  with  great 
abruptness. 

"  In  college-life  we  were  three — James  Alexander,  George  Butler 
(now  of  Port  Gibson),  and  myself.  Ah !  the  value  of  those  early 
and  college  friendships,  the  consciousness  of  loving  and  being  loved ; 
of  lovo  growing  even  stronger  and  mellower  as  age  advances ;  the 
wonder  of  grace  intervening  to  sanctify  and  stamp  wdth  immortality 
those  delightful  bonds — these  are  blessings  for  which  my  inmost 
soul  thanks  God !" 


GEORGE  BARRELL  CHEEVER, 

THE  CONTKOVERSIALIST  AND  PREACHER. 


As  lie  reasoned,  Felix  trembled." 


George  B.  Cheever  was  born  at  Hallowell,  Maine,  on  the  seven- 
teentli  of  April,  1807,  being  the  child  of  Cbariotte  Barrell  and 
Nathaniel  Cheever.  He  is  one  of  a  family  of  four  sons  and  three 
daughters,  of  whom  only  four  have  arrived  at  adult  years.  His 
grandmother,  by  the  father's  side,  was  sister  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Aaron 
Bancroft,  of  Worcester,  Mass.,  and  a  woman  of  strong  mind  and  true 
piety.*  His  paternal  grandfather,  Nathaniel  Cheever,  of  Salem, 
Mass.,  died  early,  but  was  noted  among  his  townsmen  as  a  man 
who  "  feared  God  and  eschewed  evil." 

His  maternal  ancestors  were  of  the  Barrell  and  Sayward  family 
of  York,  Maine,  the  grandmother  being  the  only  daughter  of  Jona- 
than Sayward.  She  was  eminent  for  her  virtues  as  a  woman  and  a 
Christian ;  and  the  mother  of  eleven  children,  nine  of  whom  were 
successfully  reared  to  adult  life. 

His  grandfather,  Nathaniel  Barrell,  Esq.,  was  the  oldest  of  twelve 
sons ;  and  for  several  years  before  the  American  revolution  was  one 
of  the  councillors  of  Governor  Wentworth  of  New  Hampshire. 
After  embracing  Christianity  he  adopted  the  rehgious  views  of 
Robert  Sandiman,  which  he  practically  exemplified,  and  held  with 
inflexible  tenacity  to  the  close  of  life,  at  the  advanced  age  of 
ninety-nine. 


Life  of  Nathaniel  Cheever. 


4:78  GEORGE    B.    CHEEVER. 

The  father  of  George  B.  Cheever  died,  at  the  early  age  of  forty, 
of  pulmonary  consumption,  in  the  hopes  of  the  Gospel,  at  Augusta, 
Georgia,  where  he  had  gone  in  pursuit  of  health.  He  had  acquired 
an  honorable  competence  for  the  support  and  education  of  his 
family,  in  the  industrious  exercise  of  his  profession  as  printer,  editor, 
publisher,  and  bookseller ;  and  he  had  won  among  his  fellow-citizens 
a  worthy  repute  for  high  integrity,  energy,  and  public  spirit. 

The  religious  character  of  George  B.  Cheever  was  developed  at 
an  early  age.  He  w^as  trained  up  "  in  the  nurture  and  admonition 
of  the  Lord."  From  childhood  he  was  seriously  disposed.  Watch- 
fully nurtured  by  his  pious  mother,  his  Christian  hfe  seems  to  have 
commenced  almost  with  the  first  unfoldings  of  his  spiritual  nature. 
At  an  early  age  was  also  engendered  a  reverence  for  the  oflBce  of 
the  Preacher,  and  an  apprehension  of  the  responsibility  of  the  reli- 
gious Teacher.  Yet  he  did  not  unite  with  any  church  till  after 
college  life,  and  not  until  theological  studies  were  commenced  at 
Andover,  about  which  time  he  decided  to  enter  the  ministry.  He 
entered  Andover,  partly  to  gratify  his  mother,  and  partly  to  fulfil 
what  he  himself  esteemed  a  complete  course  of  study. 

He  was  graduated  at  Bowdoin  College,  Brunswick,  Maine,  Sep- 
tember, 1825,  was  licensed  to  preach  in  1830,  and  was  first  settled 
as  a  pastor  over  the  Howard-street  church  of  Salem,  Mass. 

Dr.  Cheever's  life  is  a  life  of  eras.  It  cannot  be  told  in  regular 
narrative;  but  must  be  presented  in  a  series  of  striking  events. 
Like  Vesuvius,  it  sends  up  its  circling  wreath  of  smoke  quietly,  day 
after  day,  and  year  after  year,  an  evidence  of  inward  fire ;  and  then 
suddenly  it  bursts  forth,  so  that  the  heavens  are  illuminated,  and 
the  wide  encircling  country  looks  earnestly  upon  it. 

The  first  eruption  poured  hot  lava  on  "  Deacon  Giles's  Distillery," 
and  buried  it.  Dr.  Cheever  was  then  a  quiet  pastor  in  the  peace- 
ful town  of  Salem.  It  happened  that  he  was  invited  to  give  an 
oration  on  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  in  accordance  with  a  character- 
istic, of  which  we  shall  speak  anon,  he  discussed,  in  the  progress  of 
the  oration,  the  somewhat  remarkable  topic  of  the  inadequacy  of 
the  Unitarian  faith  to  produce  the  highest  excellence  in  literature. 
This  proposition  was  argued  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  from 


DEACON  Giles's  distillery.  479 

accumulated  illustrations.  It  was  addressed  to  an  audience,  of 
whom  the  majority  were  of  the  criticised  faith,  gathered  from  a 
region  of  country  which  prides  itself  on  its  superior  culture.  It  is 
not  strange  that  it  produced  excitement ;  that  it  was  not  only  de- 
nounced as  false  in  logic,  but  as  oflfensive  in  statement ;  as,  indeed, 
an  attack  upon  a  dominant  denomination,  unwarranted  by  the  posi- 
tion of  the  speaker,  by  the  character  of  the  occasion,  and  by  the 
facts  of  the  case.  The  fiercest  criticism  was  excited.  Private  cir- 
cles arraigned  and  condemned;  newspapers  discussed;  and  Kev. 
Mr.  TJpham,  a  Unitarian  clergyman,  challenged  to  a  newspaper 
controversy,  and  challenged  in  such  a  way  that  "  The  Salem  Reg- 
ister" was  compelled  to  publish  a  series  of  articles  from  Mr.  Cheever, 
stoutly  defending  the  original  position,  and  pouring  out  more  of 
the  burning  lava.  All  this  put  the  Unitarian  denomination  in  a 
sensitive  state  with  respect  to  Mr.  Cheever,  and,  as  will  be  seen, 
partly  accounts  for  the  excitement  produced  by  the  publication  of 
"  Deacon  Giles's  Distillery,"  for  which  Dr.  Cheever  was  tried,  or 
the  charge  of  libel,  condemned  and  imprisoned  in  the  county  jail 
for  thirty  days,  during  the  month  of  December,  1835.  The  two 
sharp  points  of  this  "  dream"  were,  that  Deacon  Giles  "  had  a  little 
counting-room  in  one  corner  of  the  distillery  where  he  sold  Bibles," 
and  that  on  the  Sabbath  "  he  went  to  church  and  heard  his  minis- 
ter say  that  God  could  pardon  sin  without  an  atonement,  that  the 
words  hell  and  devils  were  mere  figures  of  speech,  and  that  all  men 
would  certainly  be  saved."  It  happened,  by  one  of  those  curious 
coincidences  for  which  dreams  are  notorious,  that  in  that  region  of 
country  there  dwelt  a  man  whose  name  was  not  Deacon  Giles^  but 
Deacon (on  the  whole,  we  omit  it),  who  worked  a  distil- 
lery, in  one  corner  of  which  he  had  a  little  counting-room  where 
he  sold  Bibles,  and  who,  unfortunately,  did  belong  to  a  Congrega- 
tional church  of  the  Unitarian  faith.  Deacon took  to  him- 
self this  temperance  dream,  and,  feeling  aggrieved,  applied  to  the 
courts  for  redress.  The  trial  was  long,  and,  on  the  appeal  of  the 
dreamer,  was  renewed  in  a  higher  court,  upon  which  our  fiery 
mountain  delivered  his  own  defence,  and  improved  the  opportunity 
to  heap  on  more  lava,  not  only  by  restating  and  insisting  on  the  main 


4:80  GEor.GE    U.    CUEKVKR. 

points  of  the  allegory,  but  by  energetically  justifying  it,  on  the 
ground  that  the  monstrous  absurdity  of  keeping  a  Bible-house  and 
a  distillery  in  the  same  building,  exposed  the  perpetrator  thereof 
to  the  inevitable  ridicule  and  reprobation  of  the  community.  The 
defence,  neither  in  spirit  nor  tone,  was  calculated  to  conciliate  an- 
tagonists or  mitigate  judgment.  The  quiet  pastor  became  a  tem- 
perance martyr ;  the  preacher,  dreaming,  won  immortal  fame ;  and 
the  deacon,  dreamed  about,  immortal  notoriety. 

But  this  excitement  subsided  like  all  excitements.  The  Salem 
pastor  was  loosed  from  prison,  and  soon  went  to  Europe,  in  1836, 
where  he  spent  two  years  and  six  months.  Soon  after  his  return, 
he  was  installed  over  the  Allen-street  (Presbyterian)  church  of 
New  York. 

During  this  time  the  country  has  somewhat  forgotten  its  Vesu- 
vius. But  now  comes  another  eruption ;  not,  as  before,  of  burning 
stones  and  lava,  but  of  fructifying,  beautiful  streams  of  crystal 
imagery  and  radiant  illustration  and  glowing  pathos.  "  Lectures 
on  John  Bunyan"  are  given  every  Sunday  evening,  and  retired 
"  Allen-street  church"  cannot  contain  the  throng  which  comes  to 
hear.  The  chosen  of  the  city  concentrate  there.  The  occupants 
of  Bedford  and  of  Salem  jails  are  heroes  together.  But  this  ex- 
citement dies  away  like  its  predecessor ;  only  now  Vesuvius  is  re- 
garded as  an  established  fact,  from  which  eruptions  are  to  be 
expected,  and  to  be  looked  for,  perhaps,  not  without  apprehension; 

In  1841,  the  discussion  of  the  subject  of  Capital  Punishment 
was  waged  with  zeal  through  the  newspapers  of  New  York,  and 
enlisted  the  attention  of  the  public.  Without  describing  prelimi- 
naries, we  only  state  that  John  L.  O'Sullivan  and  Dr.  Cheever 
found  themselves  facing  each  other  on  the  platform  of  "  the  Taber- 
nacle," for  several  evenings,  before  an  audience  of  three  thousand 
people,  as  champions  of  the  respective  parties  on  the  leading  ques- 
tion of  the  day.  We  mean  no  disrespect  to  the  cause  of  the  aboli- 
tion of  capital  punishment,  which  enlists  the  support  of  some  of 
the  best  men  of  the  age,  nor  to  Mr.  O'Sullivan,  for  whose  accom- 
plishments and  ability  the  esteem  is  universal,  when  we  say  (what 
was  generally  conceded  at  the  tune),  that  our  Vesuvius  was  "  too 


HIS   SERMONS.  481 

mucli  for  him."     He  had  great  faith  in  a  great  cause,  but  he  had 
not  the  faith  nor  the  power  sufficient  to  "  remove  mountains." 

After  a  while  this  excitement  subsided,  and  then  came  the  ques- 
tion of  the  Bible  in  the  Public  Schools.  The  Catholics  demanded 
that  the  reading  of  the  Bible  should  not  be  obligatory  in  the  public 
schools,  where  both  Protestant  and  CathoHc  children  were  collected. 
Dr.  Cheever  thundered  again,  and  became  the  champion  of  Protes- 
tantism, and  the  scourge  of  Bishop  Hughes  and  the  Cathohcs. 

Finally,  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law  was  passed,  and  stream  on  stream 
of  lava  has  been  poured  with  scathing  effect  on  that  ever  since. 

Besides  these,  there  have  been  several  minor  eruptions,  which 
would  have  been  very  noticeable  in  ordinary  volcanoes ;  such  as  the 
denunciations  of  the  running  of  Sunday  trains  by  a  prominent  Rail- 
road Company,  of  Judge  Kane  for  the  imprisonment  of  Williamson, 
&c.,  (fee.  But  of  these  our  limits  forbid  us  to  speak.  The  fire  is 
there  to-day.     Occasion  may  let  it  out  at  any  time. 

Dr.  Cheever's  sermons  are  like  his  life,  replete  with  eras.  They 
break  out  with  startling  illustrations  or  reverberating  truths,  which 
absorb  attention,  or  kindle  admiration,  or  strike  upon  the  conscience 
with  an  overpowering  beat.  If  we  may  be  allowed  to  illustrate  from 
Pyrotechnics,  we  should  compare  the  style  of  Dr.  Cox  to  the  multi- 
form, fanciful,  lawless,  dazzling,  abounding  emanations  from  a  re- 
volving wheel ;  the  style  of  Dr.  Tyng  to  the  rocket,  one  steadily, 
swiftly-mounting,  brilliantly-defined,  glowing  rush  of  light,  abruptly 
closing  at  the  chmax ;  and  the  style  of  Dr.  Cheever  to  the  Roman- 
candle,  an  ordinary  jet  of  flame,  not  specially  brilliant  or  intense ; 
but  ever  and  anon  there  is  a  pause,  a  crouch,  a  gathering  of  force,  a 
hurst — and  far  up  towards  the  heavens  shoots  the  ball  of  bright, 
pure  fire.  These  balls  of  fire  are  sometimes  vivid  illustration,  some- 
times a  word  of  glowing  significance,  sometimes  a  denunciation  of 
unsparing  severity. 

Dr.  Cheever's  convictions  are  intense,  and  his  conscientiousness 
predominant,  and  it  never  occurs  to  him  to  refi-ain  from  the  expres- 
sion of  what  he  believes. 

He  has  a  remarkable  combination  of  fancy  with  logic.  He  suc- 
ceeds equally  well  in  allegory  and  in  argumentation.     His  keen 

31 


482  GEORGE    E.  CIIEEVER. 

analytic  mind  would  have  placed  him  at  tlie  head  of  the  New  Yort 
bar,  while  his  lectures  on  Bunyan,  which  best  exemplify  his  culti- 
vated imagination  and  experimental  religion,  are  imapproachable. 
He  uses  legal  terminology,  and  quotes  poetry  with  equal  affluence 
and  accuracy. 

Dr.  Cheever  deals  in  "  the  terrors  of  the  law."  He  has  a  great 
fondness  for  the  old  prophets.  He  delights  in  the  denunciations  of 
Haggai  and  Jeremiah.  He  inclines  to  the  supernatural  and  the 
terrific,  hke  Jonathan  Edwards.  In  the  discussion  of  the  subject  of 
Capital  Punishment,  he  planted  himself  on  the  Old  Testament,  from 
which  no  power  could  dislodge  him.  He  has  an  absorbing  sense  of 
justice.  His  compassion  flows  out  towards  the  oppressed  rather 
than  towards  the  guilty. 

Dr.  Cheever  is  remarkable  for  the  intensity  with  which  he  pur- 
sues a  subject.  The  amount  of  argument  with  which  he  demolishes 
the  positions  he  assails,  is  beyond  precedent.  He  brings  every  thing 
to  bear.  For  the  time  being  he  is  absorbed  in  the  one  question. 
Hence  his  preaching  will  be  for  weeks  of  one  prevailing  type.  He 
thinks  and  dreams  and  preaches  and  prays  the  one  subject  which 
fills  his  horizon  at  the  time ;  and  one  may  be  sure  that  on  the  topic 
of  the  Bible  in  the  Common  Schools,  on  Sunday  railroad  travelling, 
on  Capital  Punishment,  or  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  his  people  are 
most  thoroughly  indoctrinated.  And  this  leads  us  to  speak  of  the 
prominent  criticism  which  he  excites,  namely,  the  uneven  merit  of 
his  sermons.  If  we  should  take  the  two  extremes,  we  would  say 
that  for  range  of  excellence  he  was  unequalled  in  America,  unless  by 
Dr.  Bacon.  These  two  men  can  probably  succeed  in  preaching  the 
poorest  seimons  of  any  preachers  of  equal  capacity  in  the  country. 
"Parturiunt  montes,  nascitur  ridiculus  mus"  must  sometimes  be  said 
of  our  Vesuvius.  And  the  reason  is  the  same  with  Dr.  Cheever  as 
with  Dr.  Bacon.  They  devote  to  the  Newspaper,  to  the  Periodical, 
to  the  Review,  to  the  Quarterly,  to  the  volume,  the  mental  energies 
and  research  and  interest  which,  if  consecrated  to  the  pulpit,  would 
always  insure  good  sermons.  And  it  is  well  that  they  do.  Their 
influence  is  multiplied  a  hundred  fold. 

These  two  divines  resemble  each  other  in  other  respects.     They 


JOSEPH   P.    THOMPSON.  483 

both  have  the  same  analytic  and  logical  characteristics  of  mind, 
yet  so  far  diverse,  that  while  Dr.  Cheever  would  have  excelled  at 
the  bar,  Dr.  Bacon  is  by  nature  a  statesman.  They  are  also  alike, 
as  being  considered  champions  of  New  England  principles,  New 
England  government,  and  New  England  theology. 

In  this  connection  it  is  suitable  that  we  express  a  regret  that  cir- 
cumstances have  prevented  the  preparation  of  a  sketch  of  Rev. 
Joseph  P.  Thompson,  who,  as  the  preacher  at  the  "  Tabernacle," 
the  church  of  the  strangers,  and  as  the  principal  editor  of  the  "  In- 
dependent," is,  in  some  respects,  esteemed  as  specially  a  representa- 
tive man  of  the  Congregationalists,  especially  of  what  some  style 
the  "  Progressive  Congregationalists."  Mr.  Thompson  is  remarkable 
for  the  vitality  and  elasticity  of  his  mind,  and  for  the  ease  and  good 
nature  with  which  he  accomplishes  the  greatest  variety  and  amount 
of  work ;  which  work,  of  whatever  character,  is  executed  with  a 
remarkable  uniformity  of  excellence,  and  that  excellence  of  a  high 
order.  We  know  of  no  one  who  so  invariably  escapes  failure  or 
even  mediocrity.  His  sermons  are  always  good,  his  editorials  always 
to  the  purpose,  his  lectures  always  interesting,  his  extempore  speeches 
always  pointed,  his  conversation  always  entertaining.  The  power 
of  his  mind  for  rapid  and  successful  execution  is  enviable,  and  pecu- 
liarly fits  him  for  accomplishing  the  double  duties  of  the  preacher 
and  the  editor. 

Dr.  Cheever  differs  from  Dr.  Bacon  in  his  attacks  on  the  Ritualists. 
Dr.  Bacon  aims  his  shot  mostly  against  the  doctrine  of  Apostolical 
Succession,  and  the  regard  for  rubrics  and  liturgies.  He  irritates 
and  nettles  with  sharp-pointed  ridicule.  He  feels  towards  the  Epis- 
copalians as  Dr.  Cox  does  towards  the  Quakers.  But  Dr.  Cheever 
is  not  so  opposed  to  Episcopalians  as  he  is  to  all  Ritualists.  Against 
the  Romanists,  Bishop  Hughes,  and  the  Pope,  he  fires  the  heaviest 
broadsides,  loading  his  guns  not  only  with  huge  round-ball,  but 
with  grape,  cannister,  chain-shot,  old  iron,  any  thing  and  every 
thing  in  the  way  of  metal  that  his  stores  of  amunition  furnish.  We 
once  heard  a  distinguished  editor,  whose  widely-circulated  journal 
has  published  more,  either  of  praise  or  severe  ciiticism,  concerning 
Dr.  Cheever  than  concerning  any  other  preacher,  say  in  conversa- 


484:  GEOKGE    B.    CHEEVEK. 

tion :  "  I  went  to  hear  Dr.  Cheever  yesterday  in  Lis  own  church." 
"  How  did  you  like  him  ?"  "  Well,  well  (with  characteristic  intona- 
tion), malignant,  but  good.^^  This  is  the  impression  he  makes  upon 
those  who  do  not  agree  in  sentiment  with  him.  There  is  such  on- 
rolling,  crushing,  unsparing,  Juggernautic  logic  and  denunciation, 
such  merciless  beheading  of  the  arguments  of  opponents,  with  a 
swoop  of  the  Damascus  blade,  that  one  inevitably  exclaims,  "  ma- 
lignant^ hut  goodr 

Dr.  Cheever  is  remarkable  not  only  for  the  momentum  of  his 
logic,  but  for  the  extent  to  which  he  drives  it,  beyond,  far  beyond, 
the  point  at  which  a  conservative  mind,  accustomed  to  look  at  all 
sides,  and  allow  full  force  to  balancing  considerations,  plants  itself. 
Dr.  Cheever's  mind  is  logical,  but  not  philosophical ;  and  his  logic, 
usually  faultless  and  conclusive,  is  sometimes  careless.  As  a  notable, 
though  infrequent  example,  we  once  heard  him  preach  from  the  text, 
"  Paul  dwelt  two  whole  years  in  his  own  hired  house,"  and  say : 
"  From  this  text  we  see,  in  the  first  place,  that  Paul  was  not  an 
Anti-renter;"  the  force  of  which  logic  we  leave  the  reader  to 
analyze. 

The  fundamental  trait  of  Dr.  Cheever's  character,  which  is  the 
key  to  his  preaching,  is  his  sense  of  Right.  He  detests  compro- 
mises ;  he  abhors  oppression ;  he  magnifies  justice ;  he  contends 
with  all  systems  which  bind,  or  enslave,  or  deteriorate,  whether  of 
governments,  or  forms,  or  laws,  or  institutions.  He  does  not  regard 
expediency,  or  consult  consequences.  Fear  is  a  feeling  utterly  un- 
known to  him.  He  becomes  fired  with  indignation  against  all  Aus- 
trias  and  Judge  Jeffries.  His  fullest  sympathies  go  forth  towards 
the  oppressed  Bunyans,  or  the  pilloried  Baxters,  or  the  exiled 
Kossuths,  or  the  imprisoned  "Williamsons.  His  manner  partakes  of 
his  character.  He  dwells  with  intensest  emphasis  on  certain  words, 
so  as  almost  to  press  the  life  out  of  them.  His  hearers  will  recall 
the  particular  stretch  of  intonation  with  which  he  says,  "  It  is  a- 
bom-i-na-ble,  ho-r-r-i-ble  in  the  ex-tr-e-me."  Yet  he  is  not  rash, 
headstrong,  or  reckless,  but  quiet,  unconcerned,  straightforward, 
guileless.  Hence  he  has  no  worldly  prudence,  no  management, 
and  little  sense  of  the  adaptations  of  time  and  place.     This  was 


AS    A   AVRITER.  485 

illustrated  m  the  Fourth  of  July  Oration,  described  above.  He  has  a 
simplicity,  and  frankness,  and  humor,  like  Luther,  which  makes 
him  delightful  in  conversation.  And  he  is  not  to  be  entangled 
by  sophistry,  because  he  is  always  truthful.  Such  is  Dr.  Cheever 
— volcanic,  controversial,  conscientious,  strong  in  directness  of 
statement,  in  earnestness  of  conviction,  and  in  clearness  of  ap- 
prehension. 

We  add  a  review  of  his  principal  works,  and  criticism  of  his 
style.* 

Dr.  Cheever  has  gained  an  enviable  position  in  American  litera- 
ture. He  is  not  a  simple  elevation  in  a  mountain  chain,  nor  a 
single  tree-crowned  hill,  rising  into  a  sunny  sky ;  but  a  bold  peak 
dwelling  apart  in  its  own  shadow,  hiding  in  its  sides  oracle-caves 
and  echoing  back  the  thunder  and  the  storm. 

In  allegory  he  surpasses  all  our  writers.  It  is  as  easy  for  him  to 
speak  in  metaphors,  as  it  was  for  Watts  to  rhyme ;  indeed,  we  some- 
times wonder  if,  like  that  English  painter  who  thought  of  men  and 
women  only  as  "  figures"  for  his  landscapes,  he  does  not  regard  all 
the  people  he  meets  as  merely  symbols — the  objectives  of  his  mental 
states.  Still,  there  is  a  wide  difi'erence  between  the  two.  The 
painter  merged  humanity  in  art;  Dr.  Cheever  makes  his  word- 
pictures  minister  to  humanity.  His  books,  as  well  as  his  sermons, 
are  essentially  the  coin  of  the  intellect,  and  not  of  the  heart.  If 
any  thing  could  move  him  to  warmth  of  feeling  and  expression, 
it  would  be  Bunyan's  Allegory.  In  1843,  he  issued  his  "Lec- 
tures on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  on  the  Life  and  Times  of  John 
Bunyan."  He  took  to  it  as  naturally  as  a  lark  takes  to  the  air,  and, 
ipborne  on  the  wings  of  its  author's  inspiration,  rose  in  rapturous 
circles,  only  less  high  and  free  than  his  whose  prison-born  song 
awoke  the  morning. 

A  less  intense  and  fervid  nature  than  Bunyan's  never  could  have 
had  the  experience  necessary  to  the  production  of  his  immortal 
Dream.     Cheever  might,  while 

*  For  the  remainder  of  this  sketch  we  are  indebted  to  "  The  Independent's" 
correspondent,  "  Dean." 


486  GEOKGE   B.    CHEEYEK. 

' '  WritiBg  of  the  way, 
And  race  of  saints  in  this  our  gospel-day, 
Fall  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey,  and  the  vray  to  glory," 

and  give  us  a  book  full  of  logic  and  truth,  and  of  manful  getting 
over  the  difficulties  in  the  road  to  the  heavenly  land.  There  would 
be  in  it  the  "  City  of  Destruction,"  and  "  Evangehst,"  and  "  Mr. 
Worldly  Wiseman,"  and  "Mr.Legahty,"  and  the  "Wicket  Gate,"  and 
the  "  Interpreter's  House,"  fuller  perhaps  than  Bunyan's,  and  the 
foul  fiend  "  Apollyon,"  and  "  Vanity  Fair,"  and  "  Ignorance,"  and  the 
"  River  of  Death,"  and  the  "  Celestial  City ;"  but,  although  his  soul 
glows  at  every  experience  of  "Christian's,"  we  doubt  whether  he  would 
conceive  of  the  "  Slough  of  Despond"  and  the  "  Palace  Beautiful," 
in  which  "  the  Pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber,  whose 
window  opened  towards  the  sunrising ;  the  name  of  the  chamber 
was  Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day,  and  then  he  awoke  and 
sang,"  and  of  the  "  Valleys  of  Humiliation"  and  the  "  Shadow  of 
Death,"  and  of  "  Giant  Despair,"  and  the  "  Delectable  Mountains," 
and  the  "Land  of  Beulah,"  "where  the  Shining  Ones  commonly 
walked,"  and  the  tender,  loving  "  Hopeful,"  who  sustained  "  Chris- 
tian" in  the  terrors  ot  the  River. 

"  Lectures  on  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  has  an  unpleasant  sound 
at  first.  We  are  averse  to  comments  upon  world-books.  We  think 
we  would  as  lief  see  the  Venus  de  Medici  dressed  in  French  silks 
and  laces,  or  the  Parthenon  turned  into  a  modern  hotel,  as  to  see  a 
digested,  explained  Pilgrim's  Progress.  But  when  we  take  up 
Dr.  Cheever's  rendering,  our  prejudices  disappear.  It  is  itself  becom- 
ing a  world-book — widely  popular  as  it  is  in  our  own  country,  and 
having  been  translated  into  several  foreign  languages.  As  one  who 
would  not  dare  try  his  voice  unaided,  is  so  strengthened  when  upon 
a  harp  a  master  strikes  the  preluding  chords  and  plays  the  air 
with  a  sustaining  harmony,  that  he  sings  in  perfect  time  and  tune, 
and  even  improvises  brilliant  variations  which  were  not  in  the 
composer's  dream,  linking  in  the  remembrance  of  every  hearer,  the 
music  and  the  singer ;  so  Dr.  Cheever,  supported  by  Bunyan's  genius, 
and  catching  its  glow,  has  given  us  a  book  in  perfect  unison  with 


LECTURES   ON   BUNYAN.  487 

the  old,  and  associated  his  name  forever  with  the  Baptist  Preacher 
of  Bedford. 

Out  of  the  numberless  extracts  we  might  make  as  illustrative  of 
what  we  have  said,  we  select  the  following  from  the  Lectures  on  the 
Life  and  Times  of  Bunyan. 

"  If,  in  his  time,  great  qualities  and  great  capacities  of  virtue  ex- 
isted, there  were  great  flames  to  try  them  ;  sharp  tools  and  terrible 
to  cut  and  polish  the  hidden  jewels  of  the  Saviour.  Into  this  age 
Bunyan  was  thrown ;  a  great  pearl  sunk  in  deep  and  troubled 
waters,  out  of  which  God's  Spirit  would  in  time  draw  it,  and  place 
it  in  a  setting  where  its  glorious  lustre  should  attract  the  admiration 
of  the  world. 

"Bunyan  never  heard  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  it  is  true,  and  he 
scarcely  knew  the  philosophical  meaning  of  the  word  logic  any 
more  than  a  breathing  child,  whose  pulse  beats  freely,  knows  the 
place  of  its  heart  or  the  movement  of  its  lungs  ;  but  Bunyan  wrote 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress  for  all  that ;  which,  indeed,  is  itself  the  sweet 
logic  of  celestial  love." 

"You  follow  with  intense  interest  the  movements  of  Bunyan's 
soul.  You  seem  to  see  a  lonely  bark  driving  across  the  ocean  in  a 
hurricane.  By  the  flashes  of  the  lightning  you  can  just  discern  her 
through  the  darkness,  plunging  and  laboring  fearfully  in  the  mid- 
night tempest,  and  you  think  that  all  is  lost ;  but  there  again  you 
behold  her  in  the  quiet  sunshine ;  or  the  moon  and  the  stars  look 
down  upon  her,  as  the  wind  breathes  softly ;  or  in  a  fresh  and  favor- 
able gale  she  flies  across  the  flying  waters.  Now  it  is  clouds,  and 
rain,  and  hail,  and  rattling  thunder,  storms  coming  down  as  sudden, 
almost,  as  the  lightning ;  and  now  again  her  white  sails  glitter  in 
heaven's  light  like  an  albatross  in  the  spotless  horizon.  The  last 
glimpse  you  catch  of  her,  she  is  gloriously  entering  the  harbor,  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest ;  yea,  you  see  her  like  a  star  that  in  the  morn- 
ing of  eternity  dies  into  the  light  of  heaven." 

What  in  the  English  language  is  finer  than  this  description  of 
Bunyan's  evening  in  the  prison. 

"  Now  let  us  enter  his  little  cell.  He  is  sitting  at  his  table  to 
finish  by  sunlight  the  day's  work,  for  the  livelihood  of  his  dear  fam- 


488  GEOEGE   B.    CHEEVEE. 

ily,  which  they  have  prepared  for  him.  On  a  little  stool,  his  poor 
blind  child  sits  by  him,  and  with  that  expression  of  cheerful  resigns 
tion  with  which  God  seals  the  countenance  when  He  takes  away  the 
sight,  the  daughter  turns  her  face  up  to  her  father  as  if  she  could 
see  the  affectionate  expression  with  which  he  looks  upon  her  and 
prattles  to  her.  On  the  table  and  in  the  grated  window  there  are 
three  books,  the  Bible,  the  Concordance,  and  Bunyan's  precious  old 
copy  of  the  Book  of  Martyrs.  And  now  the  day  is  waning,  and  his 
dear  blind  child  must  go  home  with  the  laces  he  has  finished,  to  her 
mother.  And  now  Bunyan  opens  his  Bible  and  reads  aloud  a  portion 
of  Scripture  to  his  little  one,  and  then  encircling  her  in  his  arms  and 
clasping  her  small  hands  in  his,  he  kneels  down  on  the  cold  stone 
floor,  and  pours  out  his  soul  in  prayer  to  God  for  the  salvation  of 
those  so  inexpressibly  dear  to  him,  and  for  whom  he  has  been  all 
day  working.  This  done,  with  a  parting  kiss  he  dismisses  her  to  her 
mother  by  the  rough  hands  of  the  jailer. 

"  And  now  it  is  evening.  A  rude  lamp  glimmers  darkly  on  the 
table,  the  tagged  laces  are  laid  aside,  and  Bunyan,  alone,  is  busy 
with  his  Bible,  the  Concordance,  and  his  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  He 
writes  as  though  joy  did  make  him  write.  His  pale,  worn  counte- 
nance is  lighted  with  a  fire,  as  if  reflected  from  the  radiant  jasper 
walls  of  the  Celestial  City.  He  writes,  and  smiles,  and  clasps  his 
hands,  and  looks  upward,  and  blesses  God  for  his  goodness,  and 
then  again  turns  to  his  writing,  and  then  again  becomes  so  entranced 
with  a  passage  of  Scripture,  the  glory  of  which  the  Holy  Spirit  lets 
in  upon  his  soul,  that  he  is  forced,  as  it  were,  to  lay  aside  all  his  la- 
bors, and  give  himself  to  the  sweet  work  of  his  closing  evening's  de- 
votions. The  last  you  see  of  him  for  the  night,  he  is  alone,  kneeling 
on  the  floor  of  his  prison ;  he  is  alone,  with  God." 

In  after  time,  when  Dr.  Cheever's  name,  like  the  minister's  of  Bed- 
ford, shall  have  become  a  memory,  how  many  will  read  his  book 
with  tearful  eyes,  and  say,  as  they  lay  it  down,  "  Ah !  that  was  a 
great  soul,  and  worthy  to  walk  in  John  Bunyan's  company !" 

His  "Voices  of  Nature"  was  published  in  1852.     In  his  preface 

he  says,  "  By  material  objects,  or  rather  by  suspension  at  one  end 

Jrofm  such  objects,  analogies  are  bridges  to  spiritual  truths;  by 


*' VOICES    OF  NATURE."  489 

things  they  swing  the  mind  forward  to  thoughts  and  ideas,  and 
sometimes  to  discoveries  high  above  the  point  of  starting."  This  is 
what  he  aims  to  do,  to  give  to  every  natm-al  sight  and  sound  a 
spiritual  meaning.  He  looks  at  Nature  with  a  philosopher's,  and 
not  with  a  lover's  eye ;  she  awakens  in  him  thoughts  rather  than 
emotions,  and  it  is  always  intellectually  that  he  portrays  her.  His 
calm,  reflective  tendencies  are  seen  in  the  selections  at  the  head  of 
the  chapters,  most  of  them  being  from  Coleridge,  Wordsworth,  John 
Foster,  and  our  own  poet,  Dana.  Always  clear  and  unimpassioned, 
he  sees  and  hears  and  describes,  never  falling  through  excess  of  feel- 
ing into  confusion  of  figure  or  redundancy  of  expression.  He  lacks 
receptivity.  He  never  becomes  absorbed  in  what  he  is  describing ; 
but  is  always  himself,  deducing  principles  from  facts.  We  read 
what  he  says  of  the  seasons,  and  we  admit  the  truth  of  his  pictm'es, 
and  receive  into  our  minds  the  lessons  he  draws  from  them ;  but  we 
have  not  heard  the  patter  of  April  showers — nor  found  violets  under 
the  hedges — nor  listened  to  the  sweet  whispers  of  the  wind  among 
the  young  leaves — nor  inhaled  the  breath  of  roses — nor  lain  all  day 
on  grassy  banks,  lulled  by  bird-note  and  water-fall — nor  gloried  in 
the  purple  and  gold  of  September  skies — nor  been  thrilled  with  the 
waning  loveliness  of  the  Indian  Summer — nor  wept  at  the  melan- 
choly moan  of  November  winds — nor  seen  the  snow-wreaths  white 
about  our  door — and  so,  been  led  "  through  Nature  up  to  Nature's 
God !" 

We  receive  vivid  impressions  from  contrast.  In  order  to  make 
our  meaning  clearer,  let  us  quote  first  from  Cheever's  "  Voices  of  the 
Autumn,"  and  then  from  the  "  Mid-October  Days"  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  who  is  his  opposite  in  this  regard,  being  for  the  time  a  part 
of  what  he  describes,  as  are  also  his  readers : 

"  The  woods,  indeed,  are  splendid,  when  they  have  been  redden- 
ing in  the  October  sun.  A  beautiful  sight  it  is,  for  a  little  time ;  but 
sweet  Nature  almost  plays  the  harlequin  when  she  puts  her  long- 
cherished,  lovely  fohage  under  the  finishing  touch  of  the  Frost.  It 
is  only  because  the  sight  is  so  transitory  that  it  is  so  splendid  and 
attractive,  for  it  would  not  continue  to  please,  if  it  lasted. 

"  And  here  we  remark  the  exercise  of  Divine  Wisdom  and  Good- 


490  GEOKGE    B.    CIIEEYER. 

ness  in  the  permanent  color  which  He  has  chosen  for  the  array  of 
nature,  to  suit  the  organization  of  our  mortal  frame.  "WTiat  a  diflfer- 
ence  there  would  have  been  in  our  moral  and  intellectual  character 
if  instead  of  green  being  the  habitual  color  of  nature,  the  landscape 
had  been  dressed  every  day,  and  all  the  year  round,  all  the  warm 
months,  in  the  gay  variety  of  the  woods  in  autumn  !" 

"  When  the  sacred  wTiter  says,  Her  leaf  shall  be  green  even  in 
drought,  he  means  always  green,  through  all  the  seasons,  ever  in 
the  same  grateful,  refreshing,  simple,  and  modest  coloring.  And 
this  is  one  of  the  first  points  that  may  be  noted  in  the  character  of  a 
righteous  man,  that  it  is  made  of  what  are  called /a5^  colors.  There 
is  the  hue  of  principle,  and  it  does  not  change.  There  is  neither 
glare,  nor  glitter,  nor  intrusive  show,  but  a  simple,  quiet  green  all 
the  year  round.  It  is  an  evergreen  that  is  thus  presented  as  the 
picture  of  a  righteous  man." — Voices  of  Nature. 

"  I  stand  alone  upon  the  peaceful  summit  of  this  hill,  and  turn  in 
every  direction.  The  east  is  all  a-glow ;  the  blue  north  flushes  all 
her  hills  with  radiance ;  the  west  stands  in  burnished  armor ;  the 
southern  hills  buckle  the  zone  of  the  horizon  together  with  emeralds 
and  rubies,  such  as  were  never  set  in  the  fabled  girdle  of  the  gods  1 
Of  gazing,  there  cannot  be  enough.  The  hunger  of  the  eye  grows 
by  feeding. 

"  Only  the  brotherhood  of  evergreens — the  pine,  the  cedar,  the 
spruce,  and  the  hemlock — refuse  to  join  this  universal  revel.  They 
wear  their  sober  green  straight  through  autumn  and  winter,  as  if 
they  were  set  to  keep  open  the  path  of  the  summer  through  the 
whole  year,  and  girdle  all  seasons  together  with  a  clasp  of  endless 
green.  But  in  vain  do  they  give  solemn  examples  to  the  merry 
leaves  which  frolic  with  every  breeze  that  runs  sweet  riot  in  the 
glowing  shades.  Gay  leaves  will  not  be  counselled,  but  will  die 
bright  and  laughing.  But  both  together — the  transfigured  leaves 
of  deciduous  trees  and  the  calm  unchangeableness  of  evergreens — 
how  more  beautiful  are  they  than  either  alone !  The  solemn  pine 
brings  color  to  the  cheek  of  the  beeches,  and  the  scarlet  and  golden 
maples  rest  gracefully  upon  the  dark  foliage  of  the  million-fingered 
pine. 


"voices  of  natuke"  and  "star  papers."         491 

"  Before  October  we  sought  and  found  colors  in  single  tones,  in 
flowers,  in  iris-winking  dewdrops,  in  westward-trooping  clouds.  But 
when  the  year,  having  wrought  and  finished  her  solid  structures, 
unbends  and  consecrates  the  glad  October  month  to  fancy,  then  all 
hues  that  were  before  scattered  in  lurking  flowers,  in  clouds,  upon 
plumed  birds,  and  burnished  insects,  are  let  loose  like  a  flood,  and 
poured  abroad  in  the  wild  magnificence  of  Divine  bounty.  The 
earth  lifts  up  its  head,  crowned  as  no  monarch  was  ever  crowned, 
and  the  seasons  go  forth  towards  winter,  chanting  to  God  a  hymn 
of  praise  that  may  fitly  carry  with  it  the  hearts  of  all  men,  and 
bring  forth  in  kindred  joy,  the  sympathetic  spirits  of  the  dead." — 
Star  Papers. 

Cheever's  "  Voices  of  Nature"  is  a  portfolio  of  drawings  in  India 
ink,  geometrically  correct  in  outline,  and  clear  in  light  and  shade, 
but  cold  and  lifeless  as  an  herbarium,  and  therefore  expressionless 
too,  but  for  the  written  "  morals"  beneath  the  pictures.  The  rural 
letters  in  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  "  Star  Papers"  are  a  series  of  paint- 
ings in  oil,  all  life,  and  glow,  and  motion — where  the  clouds  drift, 
and  the  winds  blow,  and  the  trees  sway  to  their  anthems,  and  pur- 
ple mountains  kiss  the  sky,  and  green  valleys  sleep  tranquil  at  their 
feet,  and  brooklets  sing  and  foam,  and  children,  like  those  of  Gains- 
borough's landscapes,  frolic  in  the  sun,  and  the  wide  air  is  full  of 
fragrance  and  melody — and  these  are  not  texts  for  any  homily,  or 
set  sermon,  but,  nevertheless,  are  all  made  sweetest  teachers  of  the 
love,  and  goodness,  and  glory  of  God. 

We  have  dwelt  thus  long  upon  Cheever's  Pilgrim's  Progress  and 
Voices  of  Nature,  because  they  indicate  most  truly  his  mode  and 
range  of  thought.  His  book  on  "The  Bible  in  our  Common 
Schools"  is  a  clear  and  logical  presentation  of  the  argument  in  favor 
of  the  free  use  of  the  Scriptures.  He  delights  in  expounding  laws, 
and  in  settling  vexed  questions.  He  is  a  kind  of  gospel  Mr.  Legality. 
No  Mayflower-Puritan  ever  had  a  clearer  apprehension  of  principles, 
or  applied  them  more  rigorously  to  life,  than  he.  His  most  recent 
work,  "  The  Powers  of  the  World  to  come,"  shows  the  depth  and 
solemnity  of  his  Christian  character,  and  the  sense  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility that  accompanies  his   ministrations.     And  in  all  his 


492  GEORGE   B.    CHEEVEE. 

writings,  thoiigli  you  are  not  dazzled  by  his  brilliancy,  nor  fired 
by  his  eloquence,  nor  subdued  by  his  pathos,  you  are  strengthened 
by  his  power,  and  calmed  by  his  tranquillity,  and  incited  to  self- 
denying  and  lofty  views,  by  his  earnest  and  \ngorous  presentations 
of  truth. 

We  subjoin  a  list  of  Dr.  Cheever's  works  : 

Published  in 

American  Common-place  Book  of  Prose,           ....  1828 

American  Common-place  Book  of  Poetry,        ....  1829 

Studies  in  Poetry,  with  Biographical  Sketches  of  the  Poets,      .  1830 

Selections  from  Archbp.  Leighton,  with  an  Introductory  Essay,  1832 

God's  Hand  in  America, .  1841 

The  Argument  for  Punishment  by  Death,         ....  1842 

Lectures  on  Pilgrim's  Progress,' 1843 

Hierarchical  Lectures, 1844 

Wanderings  of  a  Pilgi-im  in  the  Shadow  of  Mont  Blanc  and  the 

Yungfrau  Alp, 184G 

The  Journal  of  the  Pilgrims  at  Plymouth,         ....  1848 

The  Hill  DiflBculty,  and  other  Allegories,  ....  1849 
The  Windmgs  of  the  River  of  the  Water  of  Life,       .        .        .1849 

Voices  of  Nature  to  her  Foster  Child,  the  Soul  of  Man,     .        .  1852 

Eight  of  the  Bible  in  our  Common  Schools,       ....  1854 

Lectures  on  Cowper, 1856 

The  Powers  of  the  World  to  Come, 1856 

Dr.  Cheever,  in  earher  years,  was  a  contributor  to  the  "  United 
States  Literary  Gazette,"  "  The  Quarterly  Register,"  and  "  The  New 
Monthly  Magazine."  He  has  written  articles  of  great  ability  for 
"The  Biblical  Repository,"  "The  New-Englander,"  "The  Biblio- 
theca  Sacra,"  and  "  The  Quarterly  Observer."  He  was  a  valuable 
correspondent  of  the  "  New  York  Observer"  when  in  Europe,  and 
editor  of  the  "New  York  Evangelist"  during  1845  and  1846.  He 
is  now  writing  a  series  of  articles  for  "  The  Bibliotheca  Sacra,"  on 
the  Judgment  of  the  Old  Testament  against  Slavery,  which  evince 
characteristic  argumentation  combined  with  remarkable  philological 
investigation.  He  is  a  contributor  of  "The  Independent."  His 
works  have  a  considerable  circulation  in  England. 


c  (  o clI      yj rr/ /x( f. 


ALBERT  BARNES, 

THE   EXPOSITOR    AND    PREACHEK. 


"  Now  there  are  diversities  of  gifts,  but  tbe  same  Spirit.  For  to  one  is 
given,  by  tbe  Spirit,  tbe  word  of  wisdom ;  ...  to  anotber  tbe  interpreta- 
tion of  tongues :  but  all  tbese  worketb  tbat  one  and  tbe  self-same  Spirit." 


Albert  Barnes  lias  been  pastor  of  tbe  First  Presbyterian  Church 
-of  Philadelphia  during  more  than  one  quarter  of  a  century.  In  these 
days  of  individuality  of  tastes,  and  license  in  their  expression,  an  indi- 
viduality and  a  hcense  of  which  the  settled  pastor  of  a  people  is  not 
an  exempted  subject ;  when  the  bond  of  union  between  the  shepherd 
and  the  flock  is  so  slender  that  any  discontented  spirit  may  slip  in  a 
wedge  which  will  sunder  it  entirely ;  when  ordinations  are  so  com- 
mon that  they  fail  to  excite  solemnity ;  when  transits  of  ministers 
are  so  frequent  that  the  pastor  has  become  the  evangelist,  and 
home  is  a  word  which  he  understands  only  by  reference  to  the  dic- 
tionary, or  to  some  fond  remembrance  of  early  days,  scarcely  seen  in 
the  twilight  dimness  of  the  distance— in  times  such  as  these,  it  is 
refreshing  to  rest  the  mind  on  a  pastorate  which  has  withstood  all 
the  shocks  of  time,  and  now  stands  serene  in  the  reverence  of  age. 
The  long  life  of  such  a  connection  implies  ability  and  faithfulness 
exercised  by  the  one  party,  together  with  appreciation  and  devotion 
returned  by  the  other.  These  it  implies,  although  these  it  does  not 
necessarily  involve.  A  pastor  may  be  retained  because  the  "  smootL 
things"  of  his  preaching  have  oiled  away  all  friction  between  him 
self  and  his  people ;  because  of  the  shiftlessness  of  a  church,  whicl 


494  ALBERT   BAKNES. 

dreads  a  change  more  than  it  realizes  an  evil,  and  prefers  a  lazy, 
though  painful  endurance,  to  an  active,  though  joyous  separation. 

"The  hungry  sheep  look  up,  and  are  not  fed, 
But  smoke  with  wind  ;  and  the  rank  mists  they  draw 
Eot  inwardly,  and  foul  contagion  spread  !" 

But  in  the  present  instance  the  union  is  built  upon  the  coraer-stones 
of  fidelity  and  gratitude,  and  it  will  stand,  "  for  it  is  founded  upon  a 
rock."  The  church  of  Mr.  Barnes  love  him  as  their  spiritual  father, 
as  their  faithful  counsellor,  as  their  trusted  guide,  as  their  consoler 
in  the  hour  of  sorrow,  as  their  sympathizing  friend  in  life.  They 
ever  speak  of  him  in  terms  in  which  the  dignity  of  respect  is  mel- 
lowed by  the  grace  of  love. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  has  always  preached  the  truth  with  a  bold- 
ness which  allows  no  suspicion  of  reserve  from  fear  of  rousing  dis- 
pleasure, and  with  a  tenderness  which  shows  that  love  for  his  people, 
and  no  ambition  to  display  a  reckless  independence,  moves  him  to 
the  utterance  of  pungent  and  faithful  appeals.  Indeed,  the  manly 
boldness  of  this  minister  of  truth  is  worthy  of  special  regard,  united 
as  it  is  with  an  affectionate  gentleness,  and  a  discriminating  delicacy, 
both  of  character  and  manner.  Mr.  Barnes  is  independent  without 
being  self-sufl5cient,  and  bold  without  being  dogmatic.  We  think 
that  it  can  be  said  of  him,  though  it  is  a  great  thing  to  say  of  any 
man,  that  he  never  withholds  the  expression  of  what  he  deems  true 
principles,  and  never  disguises  well-established  opinions,  because  his 
view  of  truth,  or  his  opinions,  may  not  harmonize  with  the  views  of 
his  people  or  of  his  party.  He  is  not  governed  by  motives  of  expe- 
diency, when  expediency  might  seem  to  forbid  the  utterance  of 
behef.  Strength  of  character  and  the  spirit  of  a  martyr,  as  well  as 
clearness  of  apprehension  and  a  thorough  establishment  in  one's 
opinions,  are  required  for  the  open  manly  utterance  of  convictions 
of  truth,  which  may  offend  the  prejudices  or  startle  the  suspicions  of 
friends  and  associates.  But  the  true  man  has  this  to  do,  and,  above 
all,  the  true  preacher  cannot  recoil  from  this  position.  And  yet  the 
temptations  to  a  surrender  of  a  true  independence,  which  press  upon 
our  clergy  under  the  "  voluntary  system,"  are  fearfully  great.     When 


BIOGRAPHY.  495 

a  man  is  dependent  for  liis  daily  bread  upon  a  class,  it  is  hard  always 
to  regard  the  interests  of  the  truth  as  paramount  to  the  wishes  of 
that  class.  And  when  respectabihty  and  the  support  of  a  family 
will  also  be  endangered  by  the  utterance  of  opinions,  it  is  hard  to 
declare  them  with  calm  intrepidity.  The  proverb  says,  "  K  you  can 
control  a  man's  stomach,  you  can  control  the  man."  "  Take  note, 
take  note,  0  world !  to  be  direct  and  honest  is  not  safe."  When  we 
consider  the  weight  of  these  temptations,  it  is  noteworthy  that  the 
clergy  of  this  country  are  characterized  by  so  much  boldness,  inde- 
pendence, and  faithfulness.  Let  them  be  honored,  cherished,  loved, 
for  these  traits,  and  let  them  be  encouraged  by  the  example  and  the 
experience  of  their  brother,  whose  pastoral  connection,  and  whose 
boldness  for  the  truth,  have,  side  by  side,  been  growing  stronger  and 
stronger  for  twenty-six  years. 

The  reliance  on  the  truthfulness  of  his  own  convictions,  rather 
than  on  the  deductions  of  others,  from  which  this  boldness  springs, 
was  early  manifested  by  Mr.  Barnes.  In  youth  he  accustomed  him- 
self to  reflect  and  examine.  His  mind  was  early  marked  by  a 
healthy  skepticism,  which  led  to  rigid  scrutiny  of  opinion  before 
adoption,  and  to  the  exercise  of  his  own  reason,  rather  than  weak 
dependence  upon  the  conclusions  of  others. 

Albert  Barnes  was  born  at  Rome,  New  York,  December  1st,  1798. 
His  father  was  a  tanner,  and  in  youth  he  worked  at  his  father's  ti'ade. 
In  the  retirement  of  his  village  home  he  had  leisure  for  reading,  and 
this  privilege  was  faithfully  improved.  His  tastes  led  to  the  selec- 
tion of  works  of  a  serious  and  theological  character.  But  the  spirit 
of  investigation  raised  him  above  the  confines  of  a  creed.  He  felt 
free  to  roam  the  broad  field  of  truth,  and  he  has  always  maintained 
this  unshackled  freedom — searching  for  himself,  deciding  for  him- 
self, acting  for  himself,  independent  of  dogmas,  until  they  were  com- 
mended to  his  own  unbiased  judgment. 

After  suitable  preparation  Mr.  Barnes  connected  himself  with 
Hamilton  College,  joining  the  senior  class,  and  was  graduated  in  1820. 

In  November,  1820,  he  entered  the  Theological  Seminary  in 
Princeton,  New  Jersey,  where  he  remained  till  the  summer  of  1 824, 
passing  nearly  a  year  as  a  resident  licentiate,  in  addition  to  the  reg- 


496  ALBERT   BAKNES. 

ular  course.  He  was  licensed  to  preach  April  23,  1824,  by  the 
Presbytery  of  New  Brunswick,  and  was  ordained  and  installed  as 
pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Morristown,  New  Jersey,  the 
8th  of  February,  1825. 

Previous,  however,  to  this  settlement  he  had  a  discoura- 
ging experience  as  a  "Candidate."  Some  small  places  declined 
to  give  him  a  call.  He  went  to  Morristown  through  the  in- 
fluence of  Judge  Gabriel  Ford,  who,  when  in  attendance  on  the 
Supreme  Court,  at  Trenton,  happened  to  hear  him  preach,  recog- 
nized the  quality  of  the  man,  and  advised  the  people  of  Morris- 
town to  give  him  a  trial.  They  did  so,  but  for  several  Sabbaths 
he  made  but  little  impression ;  and  it  was  only  by  the  persuasion 
of  Judge  Ford  that  they  were  induced  to  extend  the  term  of  pro- 
bation. Before  he  went  from  Morristown  to  Philadelphia,  six  years 
after,  the  devotion  of  his  people  became  a  proverb;  and  it  was 
said  that  he  could  not  walk  the  street  without  every  parishioner  run- 
ning to  the  window,  with  the  exclamation,  "  There  goes  our  minister, 
Mr.  Barnes." 

It  was  through  the  instrumentality  of  Rev.  Thomas  H.  Skinner, 
D.  D.,  of  New  York,  that  Mr.  Barnes  was  led  to  go  to  Philadelphia. 
Dr.  Skinner  was  travelling  for  his  health,  and  stopping  at  Morristown 
for  the  Sabbath,  attended  the  church  of  Mr.  Barnes.  At  that  time 
the  First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Philadelphia  was  seeking  a  pastor : 
Rev.  James  P.  Wilson,  D.D.,  who  was  settled  May  1st,  1806,  and 
had  discharged  the  duties  of  his  oflBce  with  zeal  and  efficiency, 
had  been  forced  to  decline  further  regular  service  on  account  of 
broken  health.  Dr.  Skinner,  who  was  pastor  of  the  Arch-street 
Presbyterian  Church,  had  preached  somewhat  at  the  First  Church, 
as  a  temporary  supply,  and  knew  the  requirements  of  the  people. 
Thus,  on  hearing  Mr.  Barnes,  he  was  impressed  with  his  adapta- 
tion. At  his  suggestion  a  committee  was  sent  to  Morristown,  who 
heard  the  pastor,  as  Dr.  Skinner  had,  incognito,  and,  what  is  sin- 
gular, heard  the  sermon  entitled  "  The  Way  of  Salvation,"  which 
afterwards  made  such  a  sensation  throughout  the  Presbyterian 
Church.  The  result  was  that  Mr.  Barnes  received  a  call,  and 
was  installed  by  the  Presbytery  of  Philadelphia,  June  25,  1880 


ARRAIGNMENT  FOR  HERESY.  497 

This  installation,  however,  was  not  effected  without  difficulty  and  ex- 
citement. The  sermon  on  "  The  Way  of  Salvation"  had  been  pub- 
Hshed  at  the  request  of  some  individuals,  and  was  attacked  for  contain- 
ing heretical  doctrines.  This  resulted  in  a  protest  entered  before  the 
Presbytery  of  Philadelphia  against  his  installation,  on  the  ground 
of  heresy,  which,  however,  was  defeated.  But  the  heresy-hunters, 
though  foiled  in  this  first  experience,  were  not  less  solicitous  for  the 
integrity  of  theology ;  and  when  Mr.  Barnes's  "  Notes  on  Romans" 
were  published,  new  occasion  was  discovered  for  alarm  and  difficulty. 
The  result  was  that  Mr.  Barnes  was  arraigned  for  heresy  before  the 
Presbytery,  in  1835,  and  acquitted;  then  before  the  Synod,  by 
which  he  was  condemned,  and  silenced.  For  six  months  this  faith- 
ful, godly,  successful  pastor  was  shut  out  of  his  own  pulpit,  against 
the  wishes  of  his  own  people,  for  holding  to  a  theological  opinion 
differing  so  slightly  and  non-essentially  from  the  opinion  of  his  ac- 
cusers as  to  defy  any  but  a  metaphysical  mind  to  discern  the  differ- 
ence, and  on  which  the  orthodox  Presbyterian  Church  continues  to 
this  day  divided,  with  no  very  promising  prospect  of  agreement. 

Thus  did  Mr.  Barnes  with  true  Christian  composure  listen  to 
ministers  from  his  own  pulpit  for  six  months,  until  an  appeal  to 
the  General  Assembly  happily  resulted  in  his  acquittal.  But  sad  to 
say,  his  trial  before  that  body  resulted  in  its  dismemberment  in  the 
following  year,  and  the  division  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  into 
the  "  Old  School"  and  the  "  New  School."  That  our  readers  may 
see  the  theological  points  which  led  to  all  this  trouble,  we  give  the 
leading  charges. 


THE    CHARGES    AND    THE    DEFENCE. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  charged  with  maintaining  "  that  faith  is  an 
act  of  the  mind,  and  not  a  principle,  and  is  itself  imputed  for 
righteousness;"  with  denying  "that  God  entered  into  covenant 
with  Adam,  constituting  him  a  federal  or  covenant  head  and 
representative  to  all  his  natural  descendants ;"  with  denying 
"  that  the  first  sin  of  Adam  is  imputed  to  his  posterity ;"  with 


498  ALBERT   BARNES. 

denying  "  that  mankind  are  liable  to  punishment  on  account  of  the 
sin  of  Adam ;"  with  denying  "  that  Christ  suffered  the  proper 
penalty  of  the  law,  as  the  vicarious  substitute  of  his  people,  and 
thus  took  away  legally  their  sins,  and  purchased  pardon,"  &c. 

From  the  defence  of  Mr.  Barnes,  presented  before  the  Second 
Presbytery  of  Philadelphia,  at  his  trial  from  June  30,  to  July  8, 
1835,  we  make  the  following  extracts,  as  indicating  the  spirit 
of  the  accusers,  revealing  the  temper  of  the  accused,  and  setting 
forth  some  of  the  principles  on  which  the  commentaries  have  been 
prepared : 

"  The  charges  here  alleged  are  ten  in  number,  for  erroneous  doc- 
trines taught  and  published  in  the  '  Notes  on  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.'  Before  proceeding  to  answer  them  at  length,  it  may  be 
proper  to  advert  to  three  remarkable  circumstances  in  regard  to  the 
manner  in  which  they  have  been  brought. 

"  The  first  is,  that  the  prosecutor  and  the  accused  belonged  to 
different  presbyteries,  and  to  different  synods.  In  my  own  pres- 
bytery I  was  in  good  standing,  and  enjoying,  so  far  as  I  had,  or  still 
have  any  reason  to  suppose,  the  confidence  of  my  co-presbyters.  I 
was  pursuing  peacefully  the  duties  of  a  most  arduous  pastoral 
charge,  requiring  all  my  time  and  strength  ;  and  indeed  exhausting 
the  -v-igor  of  my  life,  and  rapidly  undermining  my  constitution  by 
arduous  and  incessant  duties.  I  was  suiTounded  by  a  church  per- 
fectly united  and  harmonious  ;  having  confidence,  so  far  as  I  know, 
in  ray  ministry,  my  character,  and  my  orthodoxy.  It  is  not  known 
that  the  voice  of  complaint  had  been  heard  among  the  people  of 
my  own  charge  of  any  dereliction  from  the  doctrines  which  had 
been  taught  in  the  First  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  United  States, 
for  a  period  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  years.  Charges  similar  to 
these  had  been  alleged  against  me — not  indeed  in  a  formal  and 
regular  manner,  but  in  an  irregular  manner  by  the  Presbytery  of 
Philadelphia.  Those  accusations  had  been  laid  before  the  General 
Assembly,  and  the  highest  judicature  of  the  Presbyterian  Church 
had  fully  acquitted  me  of  them.  The  agitations  of  that  time  had 
died  somewhat  away.  I  was  permitted  to  return  to  my  labor  with 
the  hope  that  I  might  pursue  it  in  peace. 


HIS   DEFENCE.  499 

"  These  charges  are  substantially  of  the  same  nature,  and  are  not 
pretended  to  be  different  by  the  prosecutor  himself.     In  the  midst 
of  my  labors,  and  my  plans  for  the  weltare  of  my  pastoral  charge, 
my  attention  has  been  arrested,  and  a  demand  made  on  my  time, 
and  patience,  and  strength,  to  answer  again  substantially  the  same 
accusations.     They  are  brought  by  a  member  of  another  presbytery, 
and  another  synod.     To  Dr.  Junkin  I  had  done  no  injury ;  I  had 
made  no  allusion.     His  opinions  I  had  not  attacked  ;  nor  in  the 
book  on  which  these  charges  are  based,  have  I  made  the  remotest 
allusion  to  him,  or  his  doctrines.     I  admit  indeed  the  right  of  any 
minister  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  to  bring  charges  of  heresy  or  im- 
morality against  any  other  minister  ;  but  the  question  instinctively 
arises,  in  looking  at  the  circumstances  of  this  case.  Why  should 
Br.  Junkin  feel  himself  called  on  to  stand  forth  as  the  defender  of 
orthodoxy,  and  as  the  accuser  of  his  brethren  ?     Why  should  the 
president  of  a  literary  institution  feel  himself  called  on  to  bring 
solemn  and  grave  charges  of  eiTor  against  a  pastor  in  another  pres- 
bytery ?     W^hy  should  U  feel  it  to  be  his  duty  to  excite  suspicion, 
and  disturb  the  peace  of  a  church  of  Christ,  and  unsettle  their  con- 
fidence in  their  pastor,  and  allege  charges  fitted,  and  designed 
doubtless,  to  depose  him  from  the  ministry— to  blast  his  good  name, 
and  arrest  his  schemes  of  labor,  and  put  a  period  to  the  little  good 
which  he  might  be  doing  ?     Why  should  he  be  the  man  to  tear 
open  old  wounds  scarcely  healed,  and  raise  again  the  cry  of  alarm- 
ing heresy,  fast  dying  away,  and  throw  the  Christian  community 
again  into  agitation  ?     There  maij  possibly  be  such  an  eminence  of 
talent,  learning,  piety,  eloquence,  as  to  constitute  a  man  a  guardian 
of  the  orthodoxy  and  the  peace  of  the  churches.     But  it  is  a  very 
material  question,  whether  it  is  wise  for  a  man  to  put  forth  any 
thing  which  can  be  construed  into  any  such  claim  of  ecclesiastical 
pre-eminence    and  guardianship.      On  amj  consideration  of  this 
subject,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  why  the  president  of  Lafayette  College 
should  have  felt  himself  called  on  to  allege  these  charges. 

"A  second  circumstance  that  is  remarkable  is,  the  manner  in 
which  these  charges  have  been  brought.  *  *  *  * 

"  A  third  circumstance,  not  less  remarkable,  is,  that  even  when 


500  ALBERT    BARNES. 

the  charges  had  been  brought,  no  charge  of  crime  was  alleged,  nor 
even  of  heresy.  ****** 

"  The  !trotes  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  against  which  these 
charges  are  alleged,  were  written  in  pursuance  of  a  plan  formed 
several  years  since.  That  plan  was,  to  prepare  a  brief  explanation 
of  the  New  Testament  in  a  style  and  manner  adapted  to  popu- 
lar use,  and  especially  to  the  wants  of  Bible  Classes  and  Sabbath 
Schools.  The  want  of  such  a  book  was  eveiywhere  deeply  felt, 
and  it  became  apparent  that  this  want  must,  from  some  quarter,  be 
supplied.  The  demand  was  supposed  to  be,  not  of  a  work  deeply 
learned  and  profound  ;  not  stating  the  critical  process  by  which  the 
meaning  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures  is  arrived  at,  but  the  results  of 
such  an  investigation ;  and  such  heads  of  practical  remarks  as 
might  furnish  topics  of  useful  illustration  to  be  enlarged  on  at 
pleasure  by  instructors  in  Sunday  Schools  and  Bible  Classes.  A 
part  of  that  plan  was  executed  in  the  publication  of  '  Notes  on  the 
Gospels ;'  and  although  I  felt  deeply  that  there  were  many  defects 
in  the  execution,  yet  the  consciousness  that  such  a  work  was  de- 
manded, that  I  might  be  contributing  in  some  degree  to  form  the 
views  of  the  rising  generation  to  just  views  of  the  oracles  of  God, 
encouraged  .me  in  my  work.  Amidst  the  anxious  cares  and  re- 
sponsibilities of  an  important  pastoral  charge,  the  work  was  pre- 
pared for  the  press ;  and  the  favorable  reception  of  that  portion  of 
the  work  by  the  Christian  public,  favorable  beyond  my  most  san- 
guine expectations,  showed  how  much  such  a  work  was  demanded, 
and  how  ready  the  Christian  churches  were  to  avail  themselves  of 
any  effort,  however  humble,  to  diflfuse  just  views  of  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  New  Testament. 

"  The  Notes  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  are  a  part  of  the  same 
general  plan,  and  having  the  same  design.  Their  character  is 
varied  only  as  the  nature  of  the  subject  is  varied,  and  as  the  diffi- 
culties of  the  book  required  a  somewhat  more  labored  exposition. 
The  fact,  also,  that,  as  supposed,  some  important  erroneous  views 
had  prevailed  respecting  the  true  interpretation  of  the  epistle,  that 
it  had  been  explained  under  the  injfluence  of  erroneous  philosophical 
opinions,  required  additional  labor  to  remove  the  influence  of  that 


HIS   DEFENCE.  501 

philosophy,  to  leave,  if  possible,  nothing  but  the  simple  sense  of  the 
inspired  writer.  Tlie  primary  design  was  not  to  attack  any  system 
of  philosophy  or  religion,  but  to  arrive  at  the  simple  doctrines  of 
the  apostle — an  object  which  necessarily  led  to  some  of  the  state- 
ments in  reference  to  which  these  charges  are  brought. 

"  In  preparing  the  notes,  which  have  given  occasion  to  these 
charges  of  heresy,  I  was  not  ignorant  that  the  exposition  of  the 
epistle  was  attended  with  great  difficulty.  It  was  known  that  this 
epistle  had  been  regarded  as  the  great  arena  of  controversy,  and 
that  many  different  modes  of  interpretation  had  been  proposed  and 
defended  with  great  zeal  by  their  respective  advocates.  The  reasons 
of  this  variety  of  interpretation,  I  have  endeavored  to  state  in  the 
introduction  to  the  *  Notes,'  (pp.  ix.  x.) 

"  I  am  not  conscious  of  being  so  obstinately  attached  to  the  ex- 
position which  I  have  adopted  as  to  be  unwilling  to  be  convinced  of 
error,  and  if  convinced,  to  abandon  the  sentiments  which  I  have  ex- 
pressed. Whether  the  mode  that  will  be  most  likely  to  secure  a 
change  of  opinion,  is  that  of  arraigning  me  for  the  high  misdemea- 
nor of  heresy^  is  the  Christian  mode,  and  the  most  desirable  to  secure 
such  a  result,  I  shall  not  now  take  upon  myself  to  inquire.  I  may  just 
be  permitted  to  say,  that  it  is  not  the  use  of  hard  names,  and  the 
lang-uage  of  reproach,  that  will  secure  the  result.  In  this  land,  and 
in  these  times,  a  change  of  opinion  is  to  be  effected  not  by  the  lan- 
guage of  authority,  not  by  an  appeal  to  the  fathers,  not  by  calling 
on  us  simply  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  other  times — however  venera- 
ble and  desirable  such  a  deference  may  be  in  its  place — but  by  the 
sober  and  solid  exposition  of  the  oracles  of  God.  Men,  even  in 
error,  listen  respectfully  to  those  who  attempt  to  reason  with  them, 
and  to  convince  them  that  they  are  wrong ;  they  turn  instinctively 
away  when  denunciation  takes  the  place  of  argument,  and  the 
cry  of  heresy  is  the  substitute  for  a  sober  appeal  to  the  under- 
standing. 

"  As  the  discussion  in  which  we  are  now  engaged  is  one  that 
may  deeply  affect  my  character,  and  my  ministry,  and  still  more  as 
it  may  have  a  material  bearing  on  the  prevalence  of  truth,  I  may  be 
permitted  to  state  a  little  more  fully  the  principles  of  interpretation 


602  ALBEKT    BARNES. 

in  which  I  have  written  these  notes.  These  principles  are  stated  in 
a  summary  manner  in  the  preface  : 

" '  The  design  has  been  to  state,  with  as  much  brevity  and  sim- 
phcity  as  possible,  the  real  meaning  of  the  sacred  writer ;  rather  the 
results  of  critical  inquiry,  as  far  as  the  author  had  the  ability  and 
time  to  pursue  it,  than  the  x>^'^^^^^  ^7  which  these  results  were 
reached.  The  design  has  been  to  state  what  appeared  to  the  author 
to  be  the  real  meaning  of  the  epistle,  without  any  regard  to  any  ex- 
isting theological  system ;  and  without  any  deference  to  the  opinions 
of  others,  further  than  the  respectful  deference  and  candid  examina- 
tion, which  are  due  to  the  opinions  of  the  learned,  the  wise,  and  the 
good  who  have  made  this  epistle  their  particular  study.' 

"  It  was,  further,  my  intention,  in  preparing  those  notes,  not  to  be 
influenced  in  the  interpretation  by  a  regard  to  any  creed,  or  con- 
fession of  faith,  whatever.  I  make  this  frank  avowal,  because  it  is 
the  deliberate  and  settled  purpose  of  my  mind ;  and  because  it  is 
the  principle  by  which  I  expect  always  to  be  governed.  I  therefore 
state,  that,  in  preparing  these  notes,  I  have  never  had  the  Westmin- 
ster confession  of  faith  before  me,  nor  any  other  confession ;  I  have 
never  framed  a  sentence,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  with  any 
design  that  it  should  be  conformed  to  the  doctrines  of  any  confession 
of  feith  ;  nor  have  I  ever  framed  a  sentence  with  any  desire  or  in- 
tention that  it  should  in  any  way  depart  from  any  such  confession. 
I  have  not  made  any  such  confession  of  faith  the  rule  of  interpreta- 
tion ;  but  have  all  along  endeavored  to  ascertain,  if  I  could,  what 
was  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  of  inspiration.  That  from  this  rule  I 
have  never  unconsciously  departed,  would  be  to  assume  a  freedom 
from  bias,  and  from  the  prejudice  of  opinion,  to  which  I  by  no 
means  lay  claim,  and  which  would  be  more  than  human.  That  I 
am  exempt  from  the  secret  influence  of  long-cherished  opinions, 
would  be  to  lay  claim  to  what  my  knowledge  of  human  nature  for- 
bids me  to  think  possible  ;  and  which  would  be  abundantly  refuted 
and  rebuked  by  what  I  know  of  the  proneness  of  my  own  mind  to 
err.  I  speak  now  of  the  rule  ;  not  of  the  conscious  imperfection  of 
the  execution.  My  meaning  is,  that  I  regard  the  Bible,  with  the 
usual  auxiliary  helps  arising  from  philology,  criticism,  archaeology, 


HIS   DEFENCE.  503 

history,  and  the  principles  of  common  sense,  in  explaining  language, 
as  designed  to  be  interpreted,  without  any  aid  to  be  drawn  from  any 
previously  cherished  opinions  of  men.  I  mean  that  the  mould  should 
not  be  first  formed,  and  then  the  system  run  into  it ;  that  the  masses 
of  truth  of  the  Sacrod  Scriptures  should  not  be  chiselled  to  make 
them  conform  to  any  previously  cherished  views  of  what  the  model 
of  truth  should  be. 

"  It  is  not  necessary,  I  presume,  to  say  any  thing  in  defence  of 
this  principle  of  interpretation.  It  is  the  common,  the  universal 
principle,  laid  down  in  the  books ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  the  principle 
acted  on  as  honestly  by  those  who  diflfer  from  me  in  opinion,  as  by 
myself.  No  man  can  be  qualified  to  be  an  interpreter  of  the  Bible, 
or  of  any  other  book,  except  as  he  endeavors  to  act  on  this  simple 
and  obvious  rule.  Neither  by  authority,  by  tradition,  nor  by  the 
apprehension  of  heresy,  is  a  man  to  be  deterred  from  the  application 
of  this  principle ;  and  the  moment  a  different  rule  is  acted  on,  in 
fact  or  in  form,  that  moment  the  authority  of  the  Bible,  as  the  ori- 
ginal fountain  of  truth,  as  '  the  only  infallible  rule  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice,' ceases. 

"  I  may  here  be  permitted  to  state,  that  I  am  no  enemy  of  creeds 
and  confessions  of  faith.  Never  have  I  penned  a  sentence  against 
them  ;  and  no  man  has  ever  heard  me  speak  in  their  disparagement, 
or  condemnation.  In  my  humble  way,  and  whenever  an  opportunity 
has  been  presented,  I  have  advocated  their  use.  I  have  regarded 
them  as  not  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of  the  New  Testament ;  as 
of  value  to  express  the  agreement  of  Christians  organized  into  the 
same  body ;  to  acquaint  the  world  with  their  sense  of  the  doctrines 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  to  apprise  others  of  the  opinions  which  they 
will  be  expected  to  hold,  if  they  become  members  of  that  commun- 
ion ;  as  in  fact  existing  in  all  churches,  either  in  a  written  or  un- 
written form ;  and  as  of  service  in  aiding  in  the  defence  and  exten- 
sion of  the  truth. 

"  In  the  exposition  of  this  epistle,  I  have  made  it  an  object  to 
avoid  the  use  of  some  technical  words  which  have  been  long  em- 
ployed in  theology,  and  which  have  usually  been  deemed  valuable 
in  the  interpretation  of  the  epistle  to  the  Romans.     And  it  is  to  be 


504  ALBERT   BARNES. 

presumed,  as  I  shall  endeavor  to  show,  that  no  small  part  of  the 
charges  of  error  and  heresy  which  have  been  made  against  the  book, 
have  arisen  fi-om  this  circumstance.  Had  I  retained  language  which 
has  been  almost  consecrated  for  ages  in  the  exposition  of  the  epistle, 
it  is  to  be  presumed  that  the  voice  of  alarm  would  not  have  been 
heard,  and  that  these  charges  would  have  never  been  brought 
against  me. 

"  The  question  which  this  presbytery  is  now  called  on  to  decide, 
is,  whether  the  views  which  are  expressed  in  these  Notes  are  any 
longer  to  be  tolerated  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  the  United 
States  :  whether  a  man  who  held  them  at  the  time  of  his  licensure 
and  ordination ;  who  has  held  and  preached  them  for  ten  years ; 
and  who  holds  them  in  common  with  no  small  part  of  the  more 
than  two  thousand  ministers  in  our  connection,  is  to  be  allowed 
peaceably  to  hold  them  still,  and  to  labor,  under  the  influence  of 
these  views,  in  endeavoring  to  save  souls  :  or  whether  he  is  to  be 
pronounced  heretical  and  unsound ;  his  character  to  be  ruined,  so 
far  as  a  decision  of  his  brethren  can  ruin  it ;  himself  to  be  harassed 
in  his  feelings,  and  embarrassed  in  his  preaching ;  and  the  large 
number  of  ministers,  and  elders,  and  communicants  in  the  churches 
who  hold  the  same  views,  declared  to  be  unworthy  an  office,  a  name, 
and  a  place  in  the  Church  of  God." 

To  this  presentation  we  will  only  add,  that  the  self-control,  calm- 
ness, and  dignity  of  Mr.  Barnes,  through  the  trial,  will  never  cease 
to  be  the  subject  of  happy  comment  by  his  friends,  and  a  noble 
example  to  all  who  may  be  called  to  a  similar  experience. 

* '  As  one,  in  suffering  all,  that  suffers  nothing  ; 
A  man,  that  fortune's  buffets  and  rewards 
Hast  ta'en  with  equal  thanks  :  and  bless' d  are  those 
Whose  blood  and  judgment  are  so  well  co-mingled, 
That  they  are  not  a  pipe  for  fortune's  finger 
To  sound  what  stop  she  please.     Give  me  that  man 
That  is  not  passion's  slave,  and  I  will  wear  him 
In  my  heart's  core,  ay,  in  my  heart  of  heart." 

Mr.  Barnes  is  a  man  of  a  universal  integrity,  a  man  who  is  honest 
with  his  people,  honest  with  himself,  honest  with  his  God.     He  has 


HIS   LOVE   OF  TRUTH.  505 

that  noble  form  of  honesty  which  recognizes  truth  even  when  "  trod- 
den under  foot  of  men."  He  can  neither  stoop  to  artifice,  nor  tamper 
with  pohcy,  nor  hold  converse  with  expediency.  He  has  a  compre- 
hensive view  of  truth.  He  recognizes  and  acknowledges  two  sides, 
nay,  a  dozen  sides,  if  there  be  so  many.  He  is  ready  to  give  ear  to 
a  novel  proposition,  weighing  its  claims  candidly,  deciding  upon  its 
merits  dispassionately.  It  is  the  truth  he  must  have ;  not  the  up- 
building of  his  own  sect,  nor  the  propping  up  of  early  prejudices. 
He  stands  on  the  higher  ground  that  overlooks  all  the  barricades  of 
party,  recognizing  the  Right  wherever  it  exists,  and  honoring  the 
true-hearted  wherever  they  may  stand.  His  heart  is  open  to  the 
sorrows  of  the  unfortunate,  and  his  ear  attentive  to  the  calls  of  the 
needy.  He  sees  much  sin  and  suffering  and  degradation  in  the 
world,  and  he  would  do  his  part  to  remove  them  and  leave  the 
world  better  than  he  found  it.  He  is  an  earnest  up-builder  of  social 
and  moral  reform.  His  voice  has  been  eloquent  in  behalf  of  tem- 
perance, and  oppression  has  been  denounced  by  his  manly  tones. 
His  work,  entitled  "An  Enquiry  into  the  Scriptural  Views  of  Slavery," 
deserves  special  mention.  The  appeals  to  the  Bible  in  defence  of 
slavery  were  some  of  the  causes  which  led  to  its  preparation.  "  Be- 
lieving," he  says,  "  that  the  spirit  of  the  Bible  is  against  slavery,  and 
that  all  the  arguments  alleged  in  favor  of  it  from  the  Bible  are  the 
result  of  a  misunderstanding  of  its  true  spirit,  and  that  the  honor  of 
rehgion  demands  that  that  argument  should  be  placed  fairly  before 
the  world,  I  was  desirous  of  doing  w^hat  I  could  to  make  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Bible  seen  and  appreciated  by  my  fellow-men."  He 
beheved  also  that  there  were  large  numbers  at  the  South  who  would 
examine  with  candor  an  argument  proposed  on  the  subject.  His 
remarks  on  this  point,  and  in  comparison  of  the  North  and  South  as 
to  freedom  and  candor,  may  be  read  and  pondered  with  great  bene- 
fit. He  apprehends  there  are  many  at  the  South  who  exhibit  a 
degree  of  candor,  in  speaking  of  the  curse  of  slavery,  which  we  do 
not  always  find  in  those  portions  of  our  country  in  which  slavery 
does  not  exist.  "  There  is  a  hesitancy  at  the  North  in  speaking  ol 
it  as  an  evil ;  a  desire  to  apologize  for  it,  and  even  to  defend  it  as 
a  Scriptural  institution,  which  by  no  means  meets  the  conviction  ot 


506  ALBERT   BARNES. 

the  great  body  of  men  at  the  South,  and  for  which  they  do  not  thank 
us.  They  regard  slavery  as  an  unmixed  evil — as  the  direst  calamity 
of  their  portions  of  the  repubhc.  They  consider  it  to  be  contrary  to 
the  spirit  of  the  Bible.  They  look  upon  it  as  a  curse  in  the  midst 
of  which  they  were  bom ;  an  evil  entailed  upon  them  without  their 
consent,  and  which  they  desire  above  all  things  to  get  rid  of.  They 
remember  with  little  gratitude  the  laws  and  cupidity  of  the  mother 
country  by  which  it  was  imposed  upon  them,  and  the  Northern 
ships  by  which  the  inhabitants  of  Africa  were  conveyed  to  their 
shores;  and  they  little  thank  the  professors  in  theological  semi- 
naries, and  the  pastors  of  the  churches,  and  the  editors  of  papers,  and 
the  ecclesiastical  bodies  at  the  North,  w^ho  labor  to  conWnce  the 
world  that  it  is  not  an  evil,  and  that  it  is  one  of  the  designs  and 
tendencies  of  Christianity  to  rivet  the  curse  on  them  forever.  Such 
men  ask  for  no  defence  of  slavery  from  the  North.  They  look  for 
a  more  manly  voice — for  more  decided  tones  in  behalf  of  freedom, 
from  those  whom  God  has  favored  with  the  entire  blessings  of 
liberty,  and  they  ask  of  us  that  we  will  aid  them  to  free  themselves 
from  a  burden  imposed  on  them  by  the  joint  v/ickedness  and  cu- 
pidity of  our  Fatherland  and  the  North ;  not  that  we  will  engage 
in  the  miserable  business  of  attempting  to  convince  the  world  that 
the  South  must  always  groan  under  this  malediction,  and  that  even 
the  influence  of  Christianity  will  be  only  to  make  the  c^al  there 
eternal.  There  have  been  more  pubhshed  defences  of  slavery  from 
the  Bible  at  the  North,  than  there  have  been  at  the  South.  A 
Christian  man  can  look  with  some  respect  on  a  defence  of  slavery 
at  the  South,  for  they  who  are  there  live  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  it  is 
natural  for  us  to  love  and  defend  the  institutions  in  the  midst  of 
which  we  were  born;  but  what  respect  can  we  have  for  such  a 
defence  emanating  from  the  North  ?" 

The  question,  Mr.  Barnes  says  in  his  Introduction,  is  simply 
whether  slavery,  as  it  exists  in  the  United  States,  is  or  is  not  in 
accordance  with  the  principles  and  the  spirit  of  Christianity.  We 
are  to  investigate  it  as  it  exists^  not  as  it  might  j^ossibli/  exist. 

In  his  first  chapter  he  quotes  from  the  Southern  Quarterly  Review 
an  acknowledgment  that  the  Bible  must  decide  as  to  the  sinfulness 


HIS    "VIEWS   OF   SLAYEKT."  507 

of  slavery,  and  if  condemned  by  Divine  Revelation,  then  it  must 
cease  to  exist.  "  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man,  making  the  laws  of 
God  the  rule  of  his  conduct,  to  use  all  practicable  efforts  to  abolish 
whatever  violates  them."  And  he  insists  on  the  necessity  of  this 
investigation,  as  well  for  the  large  part  of  the  world  where  slavery 
is  wanting  as  for  that  where  it  is  prevalent.  "  For  if  slavery  be  in 
accordance  with  the  principles  of  the  Bible,  and  be  the  best  thing 
for  society,  there  is  then  an  increasingly  large  part  of  the  world  that 
is  neglecting  to  avail  itself  of  the  advantages  which  might  be  derived 
from  the  institution,  and  that  is  falling  into  dangerous  error  on  a 
great  question  of  morals ;  for  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  is  a 
growing  conviction  in  the  world  that  the  institution  is  not  one  which 
it  is  desirable  to  perpetuate  for  promoting  the  welfare  of  mankind." 

The  book  is  written  with  characteristic  impartiality,  calmness, 
and  thoroughness.  As  Dr.  Cheever  says  of  it,  "  It  is  a  book  of  calm 
and  gentle  words  but  very  hard  arguments." 

And  in  this  very  fact,  that  Mr.  Barnes  is  thus  honest  and  thorough, 
lies  the  secret  of  his  calmness  and  charity.  For  none  are  so  respectful 
to  the  opinions  of  others  as  those  who  have  conscientiously  investigated 
the  grounds  of  their  own.  And  they  who  have  valued  truth  more 
than  sect  or  the  world's  opinion,  and  who,  with  all  the  imperfections 
of  nature,  have  struggled  up  into  what  they  hope  is  the  true  sunlight, 
if  they  have  learned  any  one  lesson,  have  learned  this,  that  erring 
men  are  at  best  but  imperfect  judges  of  the  motives  and  opinions  of 
their  fellows ;  that  where  there  is  so  much  uncertainty,  others  may 
be  right,  and,  whether  right  or  not,  they  may  be  honest.  They 
have  least  charity  who  need  it  most ;  for  often  they  are  most  opin- 
ionated who  receive  opinions  upon  trust,  and  who  make  up  for  lack 
of  honest  and  deep  conviction  by  the  violence  of  their  arguments, 
and  the  bitterness  of  their  sectarian  feehng.  By  charity  we  do  not 
understand  indifference  to  truth — an  admission  of  the  principle,  that 
it  matters  not  what  men  beHeve  provided  they  be  sincere.  We 
mean  by  charity  an  admission  of  the  principle  that  Truth  is  many- 
sided  ;  that  no  man  can  expect  to  embrace  all  the  truth ;  that  our 
beliefs  are  but  partialisms ;  that  although  one  belief  is  true,  a  dif- 
ferent belief  is  not  necessarily  false ;  that  the  best  religion  is  that 


508  ALBERT   BAENES. 

which  makes  the  best  man ;  and  as  a  resultant  of  these  convictions, 
a  willingness  to  love  and  to  labor  with  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus 
in  sincerity,  and  an  unwillingness  to  treat  any  brother-man  with 
coldness  or  distrust,  because  he  diflfers  in  opinion.  And  to  any  one 
feeling  thus,  there  will  be  shown  by  others  the  same  charity  he 
himself  shows ;  and  his  life,  instead  of  being  a  gladiatorship  for 
sect  and  party,  shall  be  a  life  of  sympathy  and  love  for  all  mankind. 

We  regard  Mr.  Barnes  as  having  manifested  a  true  heroism 
through  all  his  life.  He  manifested  the  calm  courage  of  the  hero 
through  all  the  trials  for  heresy.  He  has  shown  the  self-ignoring 
intrepidity  of  the  hero  in  his  maintenance  of  temperance  and  anti- 
slavery  principles.  And  in  the  sorrow  of  broken  plans,  by  the  im- 
pairing of  eyesight,  he  has  shown  the  hero's  uncomplaining  forti- 
tude. "We  do  not  fear  to  quote  Emerson's  fine  description  in  con- 
nection with  his  name : 

"  The  characteristic  of  heroism  is  its  persistency.  All  men  have 
wandering  impulses — fits  and  starts  of  generosity.  But  when  you 
have  chosen  your  part,  abide  by  it,  and  do  not  weakly  try  to  recon- 
cile yourself  to  the  world.  The  heroic  cannot  be  the  coimnon,  nor 
the  common  the  heroic.  Yet  we  have  the  weakness  to  expect  the 
sympathy  of  people  in  those  actions  whose  excellence  is  that  they 
outrun  sympathy,  and  appeal  to  a  tardy  justice. 

"  Times  of  heroism  are  generally  times  of  terror ;  but  the  day 
never  shines  in  which  this  element  may  not  work.  The  circumstan- 
ces of  man,  we  say,  are  historically  somewhat  better  in  this  coun- 
try, and  at  this  hour,  than,  perhaps,  ever  before.  More  freedom  ex- 
ists for  culture.  It  will  not  now  run  against  an  axe  at  the  first  step 
out  of  the  beaten  track  of  opinion.  But  whoso  is  heroic  will  always 
find  crises  to  try  his  edge.  Human  virtue  demands  her  champions 
and  martyrs,  and  the  trial  of  persecution  always  proceeds. 

"  There  is  somewhat  in  great  actions  which  does  not  allow  us  to 
go  behind  them.  Heroism  feels,  and  never  reasons,  and,  therefore, 
is  always  right.  Heroism  works  in  contradiction  to  the  voice  of 
mankind,  and  in  contradiction  for  a  time  to  the  voice  of  the  great 
and  good.  Heroism  is  an  obedience  to  a  secret  impulse  of  an  indi- 
vidual's character. 


HIS   CHARACTER. 

"  Self-trust  is  the  essence  of  heroism.  It  is  the  state  of  the  soul 
at  war ;  and  its  ultimate  objects  are  the  last  defiance  of  falsehood 
and  wrong,  and  the  power  to  bear  all  that  can  be  inflicted  by  evil 
agents.  It  speaks  the  truth,  and  it  is  just,  generous,  hospitable, 
temperate,  scornful  of  petty  calculations,  and  scornful  of  being 
scorned.  It  persists  ;  it  is  of  an  undaunted  boldness,  and  of  a  for- 
titude not  to  be  wearied  out." 

Mr.  Barnes's  mind  is  eminently  analytic.  lie  penetrates  the  mass 
of  a  subject  and  comprehends  it  in  all  its  bearings.  Naturally  a 
questioner  and  a  skeptic,  he  notes  every  diflSculty  and  objection ;  and 
what  he  sees  he  sees  clearly,  and  makes  it  clear  to  others.  lie  rea- 
sons on  the  Baconian  method,  by  a  broad  induction  and  generaliza- 
tion of  facts,  and  is  entirely  free  from  sentimentalism.  His  charac- 
ter is  very  symmetrical.  He  has  neither  eccentricities  for  our  re- 
gret, nor  weaknesses  for  our  pity.  His  moral  sense  is  high,  his  con- 
science true  and  tender.  He  adheres  inflexibly  to  his  principles,  as 
has  already  been  shown.  He  is  very  retiring  in  disposition,  except 
among  those  with  whom  he  is  well  acquainted.  It  is  hard  to  ap- 
proach him,  on  account  of  his  natural  diffidence  and  shyness.  He 
has  not  animal  courage,  but  his  moral  courage  is  great.  His  aver- 
sion to  being  conspicuous,  and  his  studious  habits,  have  prevented 
him  from  mingling  much  with  men ;  and  w^hen  he  does  so,  his  dis- 
tant manners  do  injustice  to  his  genial,  sympathetic  heart.  "When 
he  has  made  friends,  and  has  confidence  in  them,  his  attachment  is 
deep  and  lasting.  From  his  calm,  literal  way  of  looking  at  things, 
this  life  is  to  him  a  stern  reality,  in  whose  uncertain  brightness  he 
dwells  less  than  in  its  shade.  His  Christian  character  is,  of  course, 
modified  by  his  temperament  and  organization.  He  is  remarkably 
consistent,  and  devout  and  trustful,  but  is  free  from  impulse,  and 
betrays  little  emotion. 

Mr.  Barnes  has  always  been  a  close  student.  He  is  familiar  with 
the  original  languages  of  the  Scriptures,  and  with  German ;  is  well 
read  in  philosophy,  history,  and  geology,  and,  in  preaching,  often 
draws  arguments  and  illustrations  from  the  natural  sciences.  In  his 
sermons,  he  takes  a  broad  subject,  dividing  and  subdividing  it,  and 
closing  with  a  series  of  practical  remarks.     Having  carefully  pre- 


510  ALBERT   BARNES. 

pared  a  brief  beforehand,  he  now  uses  no  notes  in  preaching.  As 
might  be  supposed,  from  the  cast  of  his  mind,  he  is  inclined  to  be 
doctrinal.  He  is  fond  of  preaching  courses  of  sermons,  not  horta- 
tory, but  instructive,  elevating,  and.  solemnizing.  In  the  pulpit,  his 
manner  is  quiet  and  timid,  so  that  he  appears  like  a  stranger  before 
his  own  people.  He  makes  few  gestures,  rarely  raising  his  hand 
more  than  once  or  twice  during  a  whole  discourse.  His  voice  is 
well  modulated,  and  he  speaks  calmly  and  distinctly,  so  as  to  be  heard 
all  over  the  house.  When  he  commences,  it  is  as  if  he  were  talk- 
ing, so  quiet  and  unimpassioned  does  he  seem ;  but  as  his  sub- 
ject unfolds,  he  gathers  energy,  and  speaks  with  more  emphasis 
and  fullness  of  tone.  Yet  he  never  rises  to  declamation ;  it  is  only 
the  truth  he  utters  that  gives  him  warmth  and  earnestness.  As  a 
further  illustration  of  his  pulpit  style  and  manner,  we  quote  the  fol- 
lowing description  by  Rev.  Dr.  Brainard,  of  Philadelphia : 

"  To  furnish  a  graphic  picture  of  Mr.  Barnes  as  a  pulpit  orator  is 
no  easy  task.  It  is  less  diflScult  to  sketch  the  cataract,  with  its  jut- 
ting rocks,  its  rushing  floods,  and  its  fleecy  vapor,  than  to  portray 
the  tranquil  stream,  which  absorbs  the  pure  rivulets  of  a  hundred 
hills,  and  bears  them,  in  a  deep,  wide,  and  fertilizing  river,  between 
banks  of  living  green,  to  the  bosom  of  the  sea.  Strangers,  attracted 
by  the  high  reputation  of  Mr.  Barnes,  are  generally  at  first  disap- 
pointed. They  have  gained  their  impressions  of  pulpit  eloquence 
from  men  of  an  entirely  opposite  cast  of  mind  and  manner.  Mr. 
Barnes  aims  to  exhibit  no  studied  and  graceful  attitudes  in  the 
sacred  desk;  he  displays  no  waving  hand  of  lily  whiteness;  he 
calls  up  no  expression  of  the  eye  and  countenance  for  mere  efiect ;  he 
practices  no  melodious  undulations  of  voice  to  serve  as  a  kind  of  in- 
terlude to  his  arguments ;  he  excites  no  admiration  by  rhetorical 
starts  and  abrupt  exclamations ;  he  never  affects  pathos,  nor  describes 
comscating  gyrations  in  the  regions  of  fancy,  that  he  may  please 
by  exciting  the  passions,  and  display  the  buoyant  pinions  of  his  own 
imagination.  He  enters  the  sanctuary  with  an  humblej-and  subdued 
air,  and  ascends  the  pulpit  with  an  apparent  unconsciousness  that  he 
is  in  the  presence  of  a  congregation.  While  waiting  the  hour  of 
service  he  sits  with  his  head  leaned  upon  his  hand,  his  eyes  'either 


DESCRIPTION  BY   REV.  DR.    BRAINARD.  511 

depressed  or  closed,  and  tlie  whole  expression  of  his  countenance 
marking  one  disposed  to  take  a  low  place  before  God  and  man.  In 
the  reading  of  the  Bible,  in  prayer,  and  in  preaching,  all  his  efforts 
are  marked  by  a  careful  propriety  of  language,  a  dignified  simplicity, 
and  a  controlled  and  solemn  earnestness.  His  eyes  rest  upon  the 
Bible,  except  at  infrequent  intervals,  when  they  take  a  searching 
glance  at  the  audience.  The  same  elaborate  research,  the  same 
clear  apprehension  and  statement,  the  same  purity,  elevation,  and 
strength  of  language,  the  same  felicity  of  illustration,  which  have 
commended  the  theological  works  of  Mr.  Barnes  to  public  favor, 
characterize  his  ministrations.  For  himself  he  seems  to  ask  nothing. 
Chiefly  sohcitous  to  magnify  his  Master  and  give  force  to  important 
truths,  he  develops  just  that  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  manner  which 
ought  to  characterize  such  a  man." 

Mr.  Barnes's  Commentaries  are  intended  for  all  classes  of  people ; 
hence  they  are  not  lumbered  with  grammatical  and  philological 
disquisitions  upon  the  words  of  the  original  languages,  which  com- 
mon readers  would  not  understand.  They  meet  all  difficulties  fairly, 
candidly  acknowledging  those  which  are  inexplicable.  Of  his  Com- 
mentary on  Isaiah  he  once  said,  "This  is  the  pet  book  of  all  my 
productions."  His  published  essays,  sermons,  and  addresses  are 
lucid,  well-reasoned,  and  on  subjects  of  practical  importance.  They 
are  written  in  a  smooth  and  finished  style,  and  often  with  consider- 
able illustration.  We  may  remark  that  his  books  are  made  out 
of  materials  originally  accumulated  for  pulpit  preparations. 

Although  not  pre-eminent  for  the  amount  of  his  pastoral  labor,  no 
man  has  a  greater  influence  over  his  people  than  Mr.  Barnes.  He  is 
so  discreet  and  wise  that  a  few  words  from  him  are  very  effective;  and 
so  cautious,  just,  and  infrequent  in  his  demands,  that  when  he  does 
make  a  request,  his  wishes  are  always  granted.  If  he  says  a  certain 
amount  of  money  ought  to  be  raised  for  a  benevolent  object,  his 
people  know  it  must  be  done,  and  do  it.  They  consider  him  a 
model  minister,  and  are,  doubtless,  stunulated  in  their  devotion  to 
him  by  their  pride  in  his  reputation. 

His  influence  over  his  own  denomination  is  as  great  as  that  of 
any  other  preacher.     Ardently  attached  to  his  own  brancli  of  the 


512  ALBERT   BAENES. 

Church,  he  gives  largely,  both  of  energies  and  means,  to  carry  on  its 
operations,  yet  shrinks  from  a  personal  conspicuousness  in  them.  He 
rarely  attends  its  General  Assembly ;  but  being  a  commissioner, 
when  it  met  at  Utica,  he  was  made  moderator  by  acclamation.  He 
is  greatly  respected  by  all  classes  of  the  community  where  he  dwells 
for  ha\ing  set  an  example  of  an  upright,  devout,  able,  and  almost 
faultless  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Whoever  -writes  his  biography  w^ill 
be  able  to  say  of  him,  as  Carlyle  says  of  Sterling :  "  In  clear  and 
perfect  fidelity  to  Truth,  wherever  found,  in  child-like  and  soldier- 
like, pious  and  vahant  loyalty  to  the  Highest,  and  what  of  good 
and  evil  that  might  send  him,  he  excelled  among  men.  The  joys 
and  the  sorrows  of  his  lot  he  took  with  true  simplicity  and  acquies- 
cence. Like  a  true  son,  not  hke  a  miserable,  mutinous  rebel,  he  com- 
ported himself  in  this  universe.  Extremity  of  distress — and  surely 
his  temper  had  enough  of  contradiction  in  this  world — could  not 
tempt  him  into  impatience  at  any  time.  By  no  chance  did  you  ever 
hear  from  him  a  whisper  of  those  mean  repinings,  miserable  arraign- 
ings  and  questionings  of  the  Eternal  Power,  such  as  weak  souls, 
even  well  disposed,  will  sometimes  give  way  to  in  the  pressure  of 
their  despair.  To  the  like  of  this  he  never  yielded,  or  showed  the 
least  tendency  to  yield,  which,  surely,  was  well  enough  on  his  part ; 
for  the  Eternal  Power,  I  still  remark,  will  not  answer  the  like  of 
this,  but  silently  and  terribly  accounts  it  impious,  blasphemous,  and 
damnable,  and  now,  as  heretofore,  will  visit  it  as  such.  Not  a  rebel, 
but  a  son,  I  said,  wilhng  to  sufi"er  when  Heaven  said,  Thou  shalt ; 
and  withal,  what  is  perhaps  rarer  in  such  a  combination,  willing  to 
rejoice  also,  and  right  cheerily  taking  the  good  that  was  sent,  when- 
soever or  in  whatever  form  it  came.  He  was  good,  and  generous, 
and  true  ;  joyful  where  there  was  joy,  patient  and  silent  where  en- 
durance was  required  of  him;  shook  innumerable  sorrows,  and 
thick-crowding  forms  of  pain,  gallantly  away  from  him;  faced 
frankly  forward,  and  with  scrupulous  care  to  tread  on  no  one's 
toes.  True,  above  all,  one  may  call  him — a  man  of  perfect  veracity 
in  thought,  word,  and  deed.  Integrity  towards  all  men,  nay,  in- 
tegrity in  him  had  ripened  into  chivalrous  generosity :  there  was 
no  guile   or  baseness   anywhere  found   in   him.     Transparent  as 


cA 


HIS    WOEES.  613 

crystal,  lie  could  not  hide  any  thing  sinister,  if  such  there  had  been 
to  hide.     A  more  perfectly  transparent  soul  I  have  never  known." 

Mr.  Barnes  has  the  habits  of  a  recluse.  He  is  very  methodical 
and,  when  a  student,  was  exact  in  all  his  plans,  every  hour  being  set 
apart  to  some  duty.  When  he  received  a  letter,  he  fixed  the  date 
of  its  reply,  and  at  the  appointed  time  answered  it.  He  has  been 
accustomed  to  rise  in  the  morning  and  retire  at  night  by  the  watch 
and  having  excellent  health,  and  a  temperament  the  opposite  of  ner- 
vous, he  has  been  able  to  perform  much  more  than  ordinary  labor. 
Accustomed  to  rise  at  four  o'clock  to  commence  his  studies,  he  began 
by  examining  all  other  commentaries,  which  lay  open,  on  a  long 
inchned  standing  desk,  at  the  verse  which  he  had  in  hand.  Along 
this  extent  of  volumes  he  marked  and  noted  desirable  particulars,  then 
clearly  arranged  his  own  reflections,  and  sat  down  to  write  the  result. 
His  early  hours  once  brought  him  into  trouble.  He  was  arrested 
one  morning  at  four  o'clock  as  he  was  opening  the  iron  gate  of  his 
church  to  go  to  his  study,  by  a  watchman  who  supposed  him  to  be 
a  burglar. 

Mr.  Barnes  has  not  sought  money,  but  it  has  come  to  him  from 
his  pubhshed  works  till  he  has  secured  a  competence.  He  has  a 
large  income  constantly  from  his  books,  of  which  he  gives  hber- 
ally  to  benevolent  objects.  About  three  years  ago  he  purchased 
an  acre  of  ground  in  "West  Philadelphia,  and  built  himself  a  neat 
and  commodious  house.  It  is  two  miles  or  more  from  his  church, 
and  he  rides  in  to  all  his  services.  Some  five  years  ago  his  eyes 
began  to  fail ;  his  morning  studies  by  gas4ight  having  injured  them. 
He  went  to  Europe,  his  congregation  paying  his  expenses,  hoping 
they  might  be  benefited ;  but  he  derived  no  essential  improvement 
from  the  journey.  He  has  been  obliged  to  rehnquish  his  studies. 
This  was  a  great  trial  to  him,  as  he  was  in  the  midst  of  a  Commen- 
tary on  the  Psalms,  and  was  intending  to  publish  a  System  of  Di- 
vinity and  a  work  on  the  Atonement.  He  is  very  fond  of  gardening 
and  his  unassuming  character  is  seen  in  the  reply  he  made  to  the 
question  as  to  what  he  would  do  if  forced  to  give  up  books  alto- 
gether.    "  Oh  !"  said  he,  "  I  shall  occupy  myself  raising  potatoes." 

Up  to  this  date,  March  22d,  1856,  his  "Notes  on  the  New  Tea- 

33 


514  ALBERT   BAKXES. 

tament"  have  readied  a  circulation  in  this  country  of  three  hundred 
and  sixty-seven  thousand  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  volumes. 
Since  they  were  first  issued,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  circula- 
tion of  each  year  has  steadily  increased  on  that  of  the  previous  year. 
The  circulation  of  the  past  twelve  months  has  been  twenty-eight 
thousand.  His  Notes  on  the  four  books  of  the  Old  Testament  have 
a  circulation  of  about  five  thousand  a  year.  There  is  a  constant  and 
large  demand  for  his  other  works.  There  are  four  English  editions  of 
his  "  Notes  on  the  New  Testament,"  and  one  edition  of  "  Notes  on 
the  Gospels"  in  Welch,  and  one  in  the  Tamul  language.  We  est*- 
mate  that  the  circulation  of  all  his  works  amounts  to  about  five  hun- 
dred thousand  volumes.  No  man  feels  more  deeply  than  he  does  a 
sense  of  responsibility  growing  out  of  the  fact  that  so  many  minds 
are  reached  by  his  published  writings  ;  and  since  the  failure  of  his 
sight,  this  extent  of  religious  influence  is  a  source  of  great  consola- 
tion to  him. 

The  works  of  Mr.  Barnes  amount  to  twenty -five  volumes :  N(;tes  on 
Job ;  Isaiah  ;  Daniel ;  the  Gospels  ;  Acts ;  Romans  ;  1  Corintitiians ; 
2  Corinthians  and  Galatians ;  Ephesians,  Philippians,  Colossians ; 
Thessalonians,  Timothy,  Titus,  Philemon ;  Hebrews ;  James,  Peter, 
John,  and  Jude;  Revelations;  Apostolic  Church;  Sermon  on  Re- 
vivals ;  Practical  Sermons ;  How  shall  Man  be  Just  with  God  ? 
Way  of  Salvation ;  Miscellaneous  Essays  and  Reviews ;  and  An  In- 
quiry into  the  Scriptural  Views  of  Slavery. 

As  we  learn  the  results  of  such  a  life,  how  few  can  estimate  the  toil 
of  its  upbuilding,  or  the  solicitude  of  its  progress !  We  scan  it  in  its 
completeness,  admire,  pass  on,  and  forget,  unmindful  that  sighs  were 
the  mementoes  treasured  beneath  its  corner-stone,  and  that  tears  ce- 
mented its  foundation. 

Who  that  has  been  in  Wall-street,  has  not  stopped  to  gaze  in 
silent  admiration  at  the  edifice  of  Trinity  Church,  which  stands  at 
ts  head  ?  There,  in  its  quiet  magnificence,  consecrated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  Heaven,  it  rears  itself  above  the  bustle  of  commerce,  majestic 
.n  its  studied  proportions,  and  beautiful  in  its  chaste  simplicity,  a 
monument  of  architectural  excellence,  and  a  monitor  of  eternal  veri- 
ties.    But  of  all  who  admire  its  grandeur,  enjoy  its  perfectness,  and 


A   FINISHED   CHARACTER.  615 

are  subdued  by  its  sacredness,  how  few  tliorouglily  appreciate  it! 
Perhaps  there  is  only  one.  How  few  could  describe  it  in  its  mani- 
fold parts — its  arches,  its  cohunus,  its  pilasters,  its  architraves !  Per- 
haps there  is  only  one.  How  few  can  estimate  the  skill  of  its  design, 
or  the  genius  requisite  to  its  completion !  Perhaps  there  is  only 
one.  xind  that  one  is  the  architect.  He  could  tell  of  difficulties 
surmounted  and  embarrassments  met,  for  the  attainment  of  some 
slight  purpose,  which  we  deem  almost  a  chance  beauty.  He  could 
tell  of  days,  and  months,  and  years  of  perplexing  study  and  harass- 
ing anxiety  and  pressing  toil,  when  we,  in  our  ignorance,  think 
that  all  is  easy  in  the  upbuilding  of  such  simple  architecture.  So 
is  it  with  a  great  and  finished  character.  As  it  stands  in  its  har- 
monious proportions  and  its  beautiful  completeness,  who  does  not 
admire  it  ?  As  we  consider  its  strength,  its  integrity,  its  earnestness, 
who  is  not  solemnized  by  the  contemplation  ?  But  how  few  appre- 
ciate the  labor  bestowed,  the  care  endured,  the  watchings  maintained 
for  its  upbuilding !  Perhaps  no  one  but  the  architect  himself.  There 
have  been  all  the  secret  struggles,  the  analyzings,  the  balancings ; 
all  the  doubts,  the  fears,  the  forebodings;  all  the  hopes,  the  aspirations, 
the  enthusiasms ;  all  the  disciphnings,  the  developings,  the  matur- 
ings ;  all  the  fittings,  the  harmoniziugs,  the  finishings — all,  all  to  be 
maintained  for  years  and  years,  unceasingly,  till,  at  last,  the  charac- 
ter stands  revealed  in  its  architectural  proportions,  beautiful,  com 
plete,  '•  a  house  not  made  with  hands,"  which  shall  be  "  eternal  it 
the  heavens !" 

"  I  would  express  him  sunple,  grave,  sincere  ; 

In  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 

And  plain  in  manner  ;  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 

And  natural  in  gesture  ;  much  impressed 

Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge. 

And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 

May  feel  it  too  ;  affectionate  in  look. 

And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 

A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men. 

Behold  the  picture !— Is  it  like  ?" 

THE    END. 


